


Error Corrector 3: Revenge of the Sith

by Sara_Esperanza



Series: Error Corrector [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, F/M, Future!World, Metafiction, Past Childhood Non-Con, Past Childhood Trauma, Racism, Real!World, Severe Criticism of Star Wars/George Lucas/Padme Amidala/Jedi, Virtual Reality, White Supremacy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2017-12-14 01:25:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 207,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/831109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sara_Esperanza/pseuds/Sara_Esperanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The CAA has declared all-out war against the United States, and the mysterious Virus Creed destroys a reality to prove their power. As a third blow, the Error Correctors are outed to the public. Knowing they'll be called into service once the Virus Creed makes its move against another reality, Harlene and her fellow Error Correctors begin to push the boundaries of the abilities they wield in their virtual worlds. Enraged at what the Jedi have become, Harlene plots her own personal vendetta against them, and begins to embrace the power and influence she once greatly feared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was pointless to enjoy coffee weather if said coffee lover drank it inside an air-conditioned office rather than outdoors. The Secretary of Defense would rather dig his own grave rather than be late for work so going to a café in the morning was a privilege in his opinion, as were days off.

When the hover car came to a halt, he opened the door but paused before stepping out.

"You want anything, Tim?"

"Nah," his driver held up a thermos. "Wife brewed me her homemade blend today." He grinned. "She'd make me sleep on the couch for a month if she found out I tossed it."

"Is it that bad?"

"No it's good but…" Tim leaned forward conspiratorially. "Alice's is better. Don't tell her that or I'll sleep on the couch for a year."

His employer saluted him. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Thank you so much," Tim said with mock relief.

The Secretary of Defense chuckled before exiting the car. He was severely tempted to pull out his comm and catch the beginning of the interviews before the New York Giants started to play, but if he did, he would spend the entire morning standing on the sidewalk. He entered Alice's Diner and smiled at the middle-aged woman at the counter.

"Good morning."

"Good morning sir," Alice's smile was surrounded by laugh-lines and was still vibrant and youthful.

The Secretary of Defense sighed. "Alice, I've been coming here for twenty years. I think you've earned the right to call me by my first name."

"All right then. Want your usual, Keith?"

"If you please."

Deciding the interviews could wait a little longer, the Secretary of Defense started a conversation.

"Is business going well?"

"As well as can be," Alice responded as she poured ground coffee beans in the maker. "Customers are happy and no economic crisis has occurred. Thank God."

"Our last one was over forty years ago. Getting paranoid?" he teased.

"I'm not stuck in the past, but it's always been vivid in my mind," she smiled sadly. "My family and I lost our home during that time. No one would help us. We had to live on the streets for nearly a year."

"Oh. I'm so sorry—"

She waved his apology away. "Don't worry. Time has healed those wounds, along with my husband and daughter. But I've always kept on alert since."

"I won't say that's a bad thing," she served him his coffee. "Maybe we're not facing any economic crises, but…I think I'd prefer one to the threat we're facing now."

Alice paled slightly but her face remained serious. "The Alliance hasn't committed any major terrorist attacks, have they?"

"You would have definitely heard about that," his tone grew grim as he stirred sugar and cream in his coffee. "We couldn't cover that up even if we wanted to. Besides, if they want more recruits, they still need to keep up the pretense of virtue," he laughed bitterly.

"I've been hearing rumors, though," Alice said. "Not very threatening ones, but they're planning something."

"Well, we can't move against them unless we get solid evidence," he took a sip and savored the rich, French roast taste. "There have been arrests and I've given the President a list of suspects. But none have been convicted of any crime other than free speech and none of the incarcerated has talked."

"I hope the police haven't been going soft on them."

He looked at her. "I'll admit there's plenty of hatred. Hatred far more justified than the kind that spread during the Iraq war. These bastards…the things they've done, the beliefs they hold and if an eighth of the rumors I've heard are true," his grip tightened on his mug. He was thinking some very ungodly thoughts right now, but age and experience that he had gained long ago stored his passion for later use. "We can't, won't use harsher interrogation methods. We can't stoop to their level. And even if we did, there's no guarantee that what they tell us is the truth."

"I didn't mean it like that," Alice said. "The Bush Administration made those mistakes and they wielded little to no results. Enough people knew that despite the lies they spread. The main thing I'm worried about is…infiltration."

She looked wary as if afraid she was offending him. But the Secretary of Defense nodded in agreement.

"That's my greatest fear also, as well as my colleague's," he sighed. "And it's a fear that came true long ago."

"Those policemen who were fired three months ago," Alice whispered.

"Them and others who are still at large. We can make arrest after arrest, but unless they do some talking, we can't penetrate the heart of the organization. We don't know what shit- infested corner the Grand Dragons skulk in," he looked at her apologetically. "Pardon my French."

She waved it aside. "No amount of cursing could sum up what the Alliance is."

Talking to someone outside his work circle helped soothe his nerves. Granted, Alice was a civilian. She couldn't understand the constant back-breaking work load the President and his cabinet had to deal with thanks to the Alliance. But Alice understood they were a real threat and had family to worry about.

The Secretary of Defense sighed and rubbed his temples. Alice stared at him in concern.

"Tired?"

Exhausted he wanted to say but forced a smile and said, "Just a little."

"Liar." She blushed and looked away. "I'm sorry, that was so rude—"

"Ah, don't worry," he rubbed his temples again. "All I can say is thank God for days off."

"When do you have to go back?"

"Tomorrow. But I can't help feel ashamed I asked for a day off in the first place even though I just said a tenth prayer of thanks for it."

"Keith, everyone and their grandmother knows how hard you all work. Would you rather drop dead on the spot rather than relax for a full day?"

"You don't need to remind me of how ancient I am," he gave her a weary grin. "The mirror does a fine job of that every morning and night."

"Oh, you're still young, Keith. And you're still kicking, thanks to medicine and nutrition advice these days."

And Virtech's revolutionary contributions as well as nanite technology he added silently, though appreciated her attempt at tact. The Secretary of Defense wasn't the only member of the President's cabinet over ninety, but thanks to Virtech's virtual exercise games and nanite technology that could prolong a person's life for up to forty more years, he still had plenty of time to serve his country before retiring. And if he wasn't completely cynical, he didn't look ninety. More like seventy or so.

"I'm holding you up, aren't I?"

He blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

"I know the New York Giants will be playing in five minutes," she stared at him pointedly. "And everyone and their grandmother knows how much you love baseball," she sighed. "Keith this is one of your rare days off. Relax. Forget for a while. I wish I could," she shrugged and her smile grew sad. "But I'm not like that. You've always been so optimistic even in the darkest of times and you haven't lost it. Us cynical, slightly younger people need folks like you to run things, and to remind us that tomorrow the cloud may lift, if only a little bit. Now go. Sit down and watch your game or I'll carry you to a seat in front of everybody."

He grinned. "You and who's army?"

"Very funny. I'm going to tell you only once m—"

An explosion cut her off. No. Not an explosion, but something just as bad if not worse.

The door was blasted open and flew across the café in a shower of glass and debris. A couple screamed and scrambled away, shielding their faces as their exposed arms were sliced. The Secretary of Defense reached for his gun, but seven armed, masked men stormed the café, plasma rifles cocked and targeted at everything.

"Put it down," one snarled at the Secretary of Defense. "Put it down or everyone here dies."

He obeyed and slowly sat down, never taking his eyes off the thugs. His eyes narrowed when he saw the insignia on their breast-plates.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alice reaching for the alarm.

"DON'T!"

Too late. A pink streak of light hit Alice square in the back. She disappeared behind the counter.

"ALICE!"

The Secretary of Defense scrambled over the cash register but was grabbed and shoved back into his chair. An evil, satisfied voice came from the mask in front of him.

"One more nigger-lover down."

There was an eruption of laughter. Overwhelmed with rage, the Secretary of Defense threw caution to the wind. He whipped his gun out so fast the masked monster in front of him didn't have time to draw breath for another laugh before he was shot in the face. With a scream he staggered back, clutching his broken mask.

The Secretary of Defense didn't waste another second. His cane whipped toward the nearest man and when the butt connected with an unarmored kidney, a weathered thumb pressed on a button on the cane's curve. Ignoring the scream, he retracted the long, poisoned blade which was now dripping with blood and aimed at another thug. Unfortunately, he wasn't fast enough.

A punch to the face made him drop his cane. Blood erupted from gashes made from spikes on the armored fist. Another punch to the gut caused him to sink to his knees. Blows rained down on his head and shoulders.

"ENOUGH!"

The shout came from the man he had shot. The Secretary of Defense was shoved into a chair and roughly pinned by three men. He could feel the bones of his arms groaning under the pressure.

"Ya think you're pretty hot, don't ya, old shit?" The man's mask had shattered enough to reveal most of his face which was twisted with hatred but unharmed.

"You shouldn't have worn a mask," the Secretary of Defense smiled even though the expression caused blood to flow in his mouth. "A shot to the face would have made you so much prettier."

He was still smiling even as he was backhanded across the face.

"I'd watch your mouth," the man whispered. "We can get another messenger boy for the White House Kike."

"You interrupted my day off and killed an innocent woman just to give me a message for the President?"

"Yeah. Gonna make me worst person in the world?"

"Why would I need to do that," Keith Olbermann whispered. "When you do it yourself every time you draw breath?"

Sirens sounded in the distance.

"Mason, we have to go!" a voice from outside called.

"Yeah, give me a minute," the man…Mason retracted a datapad from a pouch and shoved it into Keith's lap. "Give that to your Kike. And as a going away present from the Congress of Aryan Alliances to a nigger-loving traitor—"

A fist collided with Keith's face. Malicious laughter around him faded into black nothingness.

xXx

"Greetings, Mr. President. If you're watching this then you've already received word that several banks have mysteriously failed as well as power plants and generators. I'm sure you can guess that there is a connection and that they did not fail by accident. I will explain the situation, so listen carefully. My allies in the Congress of Aryan Alliances want to take over the gaming industry. They are not so arrogant as to believe you would hand it over to them if they threatened to destroy it. They are fully aware…and very pleased that they will have to fight you for it. What they have done so far is merely a taste of what they can do. But it is not even close to a taste of what I can do. My name is Rebecca Fries, and I am the leader of the Virus Creed. My ambitions are stronger than that of the CAA. I don't want the general gaming industry. I want the heart of it. The virtual realities of which the Error Correctors are guardians of. Did you honestly think you could keep them secret forever? Anyway, I too know I will have to fight for what I want. But I warn you, your soldiers will not be enough. My scientists have experimented with the interface, and in the realities we wield as much if not more power than the Error Correctors. If you try to fight me without them, you are doomed.

In the near future, I will invade a reality, and the Error Correctors will play a particular game of my choosing. If they win, the reality will be theirs and will remain untouched. If they lose, it will be mine to do with as I please. Until then, have the Error Correctors train as hard as they can. They'll need it.

One more thing, Mr. President," ice-blue eyes narrowed. "If you even accuse me of bluffing, I will destroy a reality while it is in session. The most powerful computer in the world can melt in the presence of a deadly virus. My creed created the ones the CAA is using, but they don't even touch the surface of my personal arsenal. Choose wisely."

The life-sized hologram of the copper-skinned Asian girl vanished leaving an ominous silence in its wake.

"The Error Correctors…" the Chief of Staff's disbelieving voice broke it. "Who could have leaked—?"

"I can give you a list at the top of my head," The Secretary of Defense interrupted harshly. His face was still bandaged but the new, deadly glint in his eyes destroyed any impression of weakness. "I thought we were doing the right thing as a united country and as human beings by following our laws and our morals, but now I'm really starting to reconsider them."

"You're not alone," The Vice President said bitterly.

"Everyone needs to calm down," the President said. He surveyed the occupants in the room with sternness. "When we let our emotions run wild, our enemy earns a victory."

The tension eased just a notch.

"But who's our real enemy?" the Chief of Staff said. "The CAA is a given, but I've never seen that girl before in my life nor have I heard of a Virus Creed that can access the realities."

"I don't care what that crazy bitch says, she has to be bluffing," the Vice President snapped. "For one thing, she's not white. The CAA would castrate themselves before allying with her. Those bastards who attacked Keith must have been impersonators. And strong as the security is on the gaming industry it's nothing compared to the realities. You'd have to be Brainiac to break through it. And she says she wants to play games for the realities. Games! She's insane."

"And stupid," the Secretary of Defense added. "If her threats had any merit, she would have destroyed a reality first and then made demands. The CAA is our true enemy, not this maniac kid."

"Maybe, but I'm not taking any chances," the President said. He addressed the Chief of Staff. "Stephen, after this meeting have Dr. Anderson contacted. Regardless of whether her threats are real, this Rebecca Fries and maybe the CAA now know the existence of the Error Correctors, so they need to be warned."

The President's comm suddenly chimed.

"Mr. President, General Clark has stationed several battalions in sections thirty-four through fifty-two. His reports state that no more attacks have happened so far."

"Good. Thank you, Samantha."

"The CAA doesn't have the brightest military minds," The Secretary of Defense said with grim satisfaction. "They surprised us once. They won't do it again."

The President's comm chimed again.

"Mr. President, Senator Kimball is demanding more security. There are several known CAA members in Atlanta. Riots are breaking out and property is being destroyed. The local police force is not enough."

"Only a one or two battalions can be spared. This is the tenth Senator who has called for back-up. Most of our troops need to guard the virtual sectors."

The next half-hour was spent with the President answering calls regarding security updates and distribution. Aide was being sent to those who lost power thanks to the attacks, but nothing could be done for the financial assets of those whose banks had crashed. Because he was in the presence of people he trusted with his life, The President let his shoulders slump slightly as he rubbed his exhausted eyes.

"Mr. President? Jon…?"

He looked up and nodded at his Secretary of Staff but couldn't bring himself to smile.

"I'm fine, Stephen."

"We need to find the Grand Dragons," The Secretary of Defense said. "With them captured, some of the Alliance members are sure to talk."

"We'll get them," The Vice President said. "They're not nearly as smart as Bin Laden. They're right here in America. Probably watching the news and laughing their inbred asses off. Now we have all the excuse we need to hunt them down like the dogs they are."

The President's comm chimed again.

"Mr. President. Dr. Anderson is on line one."

The President's blood ran cold and he didn't know why.

"Put him on."

A moment later, Dr. Anderson's voice came through.

"Mr. President," he sounded like he was struggling with all his might to remain calm. "I had to call you directly…something terrible has happened. One of the realities has been destroyed."

Everyone froze as if they had been sprayed with liquid nitrogen. The President had to take a deep breath before responding.

"Dr. Anderson, what exactly do you mean by 'destroyed'?"

"It wasn't online…the reality was a minor one. We hadn't really been planning on using it. But all of a sudden the interface was invaded…we tried to stop it but we couldn't. No matter what we did. It came through and wiped the reality out in less than five minutes. It's gone and we can't bring it back."

"What is 'it', Dr. Anderson? What destroyed the reality?"

"A virus, sir. A virtual virus. We're examining the ruined reality now. It looks like a wild fire swept through and burned everything. We can't bring it back. The virus is still there, but it's unlike anything we've ever seen. Mr. President, someone accomplished this from the outside. They know about the realities and the Error Correctors. I don't know if it's the CAA or what. No one has claimed responsibility yet, not even through threats or blackmail. What should we do? Should we evacuate the Error Correctors? The realities can survive without them for a month if we need them to."

The President squeezed his eyes shut. He thought he would never know how Obama felt during America's Darkest Times and rejoiced in that belief.

"No," he said. "The Error Correctors need to stay where they are for now. I'm going to arrange transport for them. They are to be brought here immediately."

"…Mr. President, do you know what's going on?"

"Unfortunately I think I do. If what you say is true, then you've confirmed the existence of a threat that could put the Congress of Aryan Alliances to shame. I'll explain when you get here."

Long pause. "Yes, Mr. President. I'll have the Error Correctors prepare for travel."

The line was disconnected and the President looked at the white faces around him. The Secretary of Defense's cane was groaning under the pressure of his grip. His eyes burned with murder and self-loathing. The Vice President had her head bowed. She looked as if she wanted to scream and cry simultaneously.

"There was nothing we could have done," The President said quietly. Their pain beat at him. Coupled with his own, he wanted to slouch again but didn't.

"So she's a liar and a terrorist," the Secretary of Defense said. "She didn't even wait for a response."

"We don't even know if she's responsible, Keith," The Chief of Staff said. "This could be solely the CAA, and their using that girl to frighten and distract us."

"I wish I could believe you," The Secretary of Defense looked at his colleague with red eyes. "But my instincts tell me otherwise."

"She said she would destroy a reality while it was in session, so technically she didn't lie," the President said. "I'm not saying I think she has honor or anything, I just thank God the reality was minor and deactivated."

"If she's telling the truth about her viruses, then what about her claims to being able to access the interface?" the Chief of Staff said. "If they're true then…"

"We have traitors in our midst," the Vice President spat. "I'm not surprised."

"Until we get more information, we need to go along with her," the President said. "The Error Correctors will come here. We'll explain the situation."

"And then what?" the Vice President demanded. "Send those children against a creed of murderous psychopaths?"

"Those children are government agents," the President said. "They swore an oath to protect and serve the United States of America just like everyone in this room. They've just been doing it in a different way. Until now." He sighed. "I don't like it. I hate it. I would send trained soldiers against this Rebecca Fries, but she's right. None of them are nearly as skilled in manipulating the interface as the Error Correctors. And I know in my soul that Fries wasn't lying about her skill with it. To make a virus that could…" he took a deep breath and continued. "Those children have been unofficial soldiers for some time. But now they need to be officially called into service." His mind strayed to the image of young Harlene Ballantine's face. The girl would be fourteen now, wouldn't she?

The Secretary of Defense frowned. "Mr. President, if the Error Correctors are going to fight for America we can't keep it a secret from the public. We can't keep them from the public. Nor this Virus Mistress and her weapons. If this is really happening, the people need to be told."

"Yes," the President rose from his chair. The eyes of his colleagues were filled with a hard grimness that mirrored his own.

"The nation is under attack. The people must be informed."


	2. Chapter 2

It was Easter time. The clear sky, golden sun and fresh green grass was so perfect for this day. The child wanted to throw herself on the emerald beds and laugh and roll around until there were green stains on her dress. She hated dresses but mommy was always upset when she messed one up so she would keep it clean. For mommy.

Not for them.

"The object of the game is to collect as many Easter Eggs as possible," Mrs. Romano told the class. "Whoever gets the most eggs wins the contest. First, let us say a prayer of thanks to our Lord Jesus Christ for this beautiful day and his father the Almighty for sending his only son to die for our sins. Who would like to lead the prayer?"

The child raised her hand, ignoring the looks of disbelief and disgust from her classmates. Mrs. Romano scowled at her. She always scowled when the child volunteered to lead prayer and the child was never picked on. But she always raised her hand.

"Christina. You can lead our prayer," Mrs. Romano said graciously. Too graciously the child thought.

"You can't pray to Jesus," the boy beside her hissed. "You're a gypsy Jew. Gypsy Jews can't pray to God or Jesus. They can't pray at all. You're cursed for hell. That's why you're white as a ghost."

The child's tiny hand clenched. She wanted to punch him. Daddy had been teaching her how to punch correctly, but he made her promise she would never hurt someone unless they wanted to hurt her. The child turned her head and large black eyes narrowed at the boy.

"You won't make me break my promise. You're not worth it."

"Martinelli!" Mrs. Romano snapped. "What have I said about talking while someone is leading us in prayer!"

The child stared at her teacher. "Tommy said I can't pray. He's wrong, and I told him so."

Mrs. Romano came over to her. Her eyes bore into the child's. The child held her gaze but felt nervous and angry at all the gleeful faces of her classmates on her.

"God does not save Jews, Martinelli, nor does he save Muslims or gypsy thieves. If you are so eager to interrupt prayer, why don't you confess to us all how many pockets you've picked so far?"

"She stole my cookie!" Christina cried and pointed a finger at the child. "Today! She stole it! She said she would steal my mommy's air car when she grew up if I told on her!"

"I didn't steal anything!" the child cried. Tears were forming in her eyes.

"You cry tears of guilt," Mrs. Romano smiled nastily. "Sinner's guilt. Now confess little sinner or you won't participate in the Easter egg hunt."

"God doesn't save jerks either," the child said angrily. "You confess or you're going to hell."

The entire class's laughter rang behind her as Mrs. Romano seized her arm and dragged her to the classroom.

"You stay here," the child flinched at the hatred in the teacher's eyes. "For the rest of the day. If you leave, I'll whip you myself since your mother doesn't seem very competent in teaching you respect."

"Shut up!" rage overpowered fear. "My mommy's more than you'll ever be."

Mrs. Romano stared at her for a long moment before going to the cupboard and taking something out. The child strained to see what it was but Mrs. Romano kept it hidden in her hand. She walked toward the child and threw something at her.

The front of the child's dress was now drenched in red paint that dripped down her skirt and splashed to the floor.

Eyes that were filled with fury and disbelieving hurt met ones filled with supreme satisfaction.

"I'll bet your mommy fixed you up all nice and pretty today just for Easter. Imagine her disappointment when she finds you decided to repay her by getting dirty."

Mrs. Romano left. The child didn't hear the door close. The tears poured numbly down her cheeks to mix with the red droplets on the floor.

(sinner see your blood tinged tears)

The child collapsed to her knees and sobbed loudly. Why were these people so mean? She hadn't done anything to them.

But they had done something to her.

She wanted to hurt them. She wanted to kill them. She wanted God to strike them all dead. She deserved to be loved by God. Mommy and Daddy told her God loved her so he did. They didn't deserve any respect at all.

The child took her hands from her face and stared at her ruined dress. It looked as if she was covered in blood. Filled with terror and disgust, the child went over to one of the counters. She pushed a stool close to the edge and climbed it up. With a towel she cleaned herself as best she could. She then washed her hands free of excess scarlet as the occasional sob slipped past her mouth.

Jumping off the stool, the child stared at the door. She didn't want to be here anymore. It was too scary. Mrs. Romano hadn't locked her in and the child knew it was because she wanted to whip her. If the child escaped it would be all the excuse she needed.

(don't be afraid child)

The child's eyes grew hard as she stared at the door. Marching over to it she stood on her tip-toes and grasped the knob with both hands. With a sharp twist, the door opened.

She ran outside the school and into the small forest where her classmates were finding Easter eggs. Her heart pounded in her chest as she ran. Terror and exhilaration made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. She stopped when her breath had run out. Panting, she laid her small body against a tree, hands against the hard bark.

She froze when she sensed something.

It wasn't a smell or a taste but she knew…she felt someone was watching her. Eyes wide, she turned around.

There was nothing but trees and bushes. No sound except a slight breeze and the birds chirping, but the child gasped when emotion that was not her own flooded her mind.

Recognition. Then a simultaneous wave of fury, alarm and terror. It was violent but she felt it slowly die and be replaced by relief.

"Hello?" the child called cautiously. "Who's there?"

More emotion. This time intense frustration. As if whoever was watching wanted very much to reveal themselves or speak but couldn't.

The child moved away from the tree, glancing around. "I know you're there. Where are you?"

The frustration increased. The child didn't call out again. Whoever it was, they wanted to come out and her speaking only reminded them that they couldn't. Nervously, the child turned around and started to move away expecting more frustration but it never came.

So the stranger could follow her?

Nervousness progressing to fear, the child listened for more emotions. There was still anger and frustration but also confusion, wonder and longing.

Longing?

The child continued to walk and she knew the stranger was following. She continued to feel their emotions but wasn't scared anymore. The presence felt oddly safe…and familiar. The child looked over her shoulder and smiled brightly at the trees. In response a trickle of amusement leaked into the stranger's emotions. The child jumped and waved.

"Follow me!" she called and turned to run.

She laughed when she felt more amusement and began to run. The stranger followed and the child felt an unexpected wave of happiness and security, like when Mommy and Daddy smiled at her or kissed her and hugged her.

The wind whipped at her face and through her hair. It was such a wonderful feeling that the child pushed her legs faster despite growing ache in them. The stranger behind her was still following. The child smirked and disappeared behind a tree. She peered around the trunk into the distance.

Her smiled turned mischievous. "Can't catch me!"

She ran again and picked up more emotion. Amusement but also single-minded determination that was so strong the child thought it indestructible. The stranger wanted to catch her very much. She wouldn't make it easy for them.

The child rounded around a large tree trunk when suddenly a blinding pain exploded in her head. When the blackness cleared, the child found herself lying in the grass and mulch a tiny hand clutching her temple. Something wet and warm seeped through her fingers.

"Did you fall, little thing?"

The child whimpered and blinked rapidly trying to clear the fuzziness. With effort she lifted her head and saw a man standing a few yards away from her. He was young and his clothing looked expensive but his features which may have been handsome were twisted with deep loathing. He threw a rock by her prone form.

"You should be more careful."

The child managed to rise to her knees. She moaned, both from the pain and the torrent of emotions in her mind that weren't hers. This man wasn't the stranger. The stranger was still watching she knew. And their emotions were consumed with fury and the desire to kill…

Not her but this man.

"The world doesn't need clumsy little things like you," the man moved slowly forward. His cold brown eyes raked the child's form. "Antonietta made the mistake, but you will apologize."

He reached into his pocket and a silver blade erupted from his fist. The child's eyes widened with terror. What little strength she had froze in her muscles.

RUN! A voice exploded in her mind. It was deep and male and contained all the terror and fury she had felt before. RUN!

I can't the child thought. Her eyes remained locked on the approaching knife. I can't move. Help me.

GET UP YOU STUPID CHILD!

He was getting so close…

RUN! HARLENE RUN! RUN!

Even in her anguish the child was confused. Harlene? That wasn't her name. Her name was…

"Harlene. Harlene! Wake up now!"

Even before she had fully regained consciousness she sat up so fast her head swam.

"Harlene," hands gripped her shoulders and a sharp voice spoke to her. "Get up. We leave in an hour."

"God fucking dammit, Claire," Harlene's voice came out gravelly and furious. "I was just about to know what my real name is!"

Brief pause. "I'm sorry," her mentor sounded honestly apologetic. "But you know what's happened. You need to get ready right away."

Harlene stared at the sheets covering her lap, breathing slightly labored before looking at her hands. They belonged to an adolescent's, not a very young child.

"Did you have a nightmare?"

Harlene looked up at Claire Selton's tanned face, framed by long pale red hair. Her mind was instantly soothed by the concerned golden eyes staring down at her.

"Yeah," she muttered and swung her legs over the bed. Her hand brushed tangled black hair from her eyes. "Something like that."

"We can talk about later if you want," Claire said. "But you need to get ready."

"Martinelli."

"What?"

"My surname…it's Martinelli."

The corners of Claire's mouth curled. "That's Italian."

Harlene couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah. It is."

Claire touched her shoulder before heading towards the door. "Everyone's meeting on the last floor in the library. Make sure all your things are in the garage."

Showered and dressed in less than ten minutes, Harlene was out of her room and hurrying towards the library.

My last name is Martinelli.

She had always known deep down that Harlene Ballantine wasn't her real name. Claire had tried to find it, but such a project demanded more time than she could afford especially with so little leads. Harlene had never thought about where she had come from much. Dwelling on the past wasn't her style though she had planned to investigate herself when she was ready. Knowing her last name would speed the process up heavily, but knowing her full past was the last thing on her mind right now.

"Harlene?"

Dr. John Lexton emerged from the hall opposite of her. Though he was groomed and well-dressed, he looked very worn and exhausted.

Concerned, Harlene went up to him and touched his hand. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Oh, I tried," he forced a smile. "Believe me, I tried."

They began to walk. Harlene bit her lip and asked tentatively. "Did you find anything?"

"I would have told you in an instant if we had," John said. "This virus…it's nothing like anything we've ever seen. I don't know what kind of mind could have the brilliance and…depravity to concoct such a thing."

Dread unlike anything she had ever known had seized Harlene's heart when she heard what had happened to that doomed reality yesterday, but now she was recovering from the numb shock that followed.

"But it wasn't a very complex reality," she said. "Would a…bigger reality stand more of a chance?"

John stared into her eyes. She raised a few barriers to keep the plea out of them knowing it would only torment him.

"I want to say yes," he whispered. "But I'd only be patronizing you."

Harlene kept her eyes in front of her. Anger and helplessness churned in her gut.

You won't get Star Wars you fucking bitch. You won't touch any of them. They're mine and if you lay one finger on them…

They entered the library. Most of her creed was there, conversing with one another in low tones filled with grimness, worry and disbelief. A few caretakers were there as well along with Dr. Dubrinsky. Harlene was instantly subjected to the routine glares from some of her colleagues and the caretakers. This time she took extra pleasure in glaring back.

Just try it. I'd love for you to try and fuck with me today.

Dr. Lexton noticed and pursed his lips. "We're leaving in half an hour everyone," he announced. "Make sure all your belongings are in your cases. You'll only be allowed your comms during the ride." In a hushed tone he added to Harlene. "I know it's not your fault, but please don't add fuel to the fire. If anyone starts anything, tell me and I'll deal with it."

Harlene inhaled slowly and exhaled. "For you I will."

He smiled and briefly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Thank you."

Jacob and Roan weren't there, but Noelle was seated on one of the couches talking to no one. Her legs were crossed, arms folded over her stomach. Her brown eyes stared at her knees and were surprisingly unreadable. She looked up at Harlene's approach and tilted her head in invitation. Harlene sat beside her and smiled.

"Hey."

Noelle frowned. "Your veins are sticking out like neon signs. You didn't sleep well?"

Too jaded of Noelle's bluntness to be offended, Harlene shrugged. "Did you?" she countered.

"I'm not tired so I guess I did."

"Or maybe sleep is the last thing on everyone's mind right now."

"Yeah. Some blue-eyed chink threatens our fantasy worlds and we all turn into angry, scared shitless stiffs."

Harlene blinked. Noelle never hesitated to scorn every part of someone she hated including their race, but this was the first time she had heard her slur her own.

"The President's gonna make us fight," Noelle continued. "He shouldn't waste his breath. We'll kill anyone who threatens our realities."

Harlene could detect the fear behind her friend's harsh confidence. She placed a hand on her arm.

"We'll kill everyone who threatens our realities."

Noelle's bangs hid most of the right side of her face. They shifted so her eye was concealed but the other warmed as a rare smile curled her mouth.

"You're getting very bold little sis," a slender fair-skinned hand ran down Harlene's hair affectionately. "If you don't fight it you'll be like me in four years."

"Ah, you wouldn't like that," Harlene said smiling in turn. "Admit it. We'd kill each other eventually."

A wolf-whistle came from their right.

"Oh, come on. Don't just touch her hair. Kiss her. Kiss her."

Reflexes kicking in, Harlene grabbed Noelle around the waist to stop her from pummeling Carlos.

"Noelle, he's just being a dipshit. You've known for years that he likes being a dipshit. Let it go."

"Settle down," one of the caretakers barked.

"Make me," Noelle spat back.

"Shut up and sit down," Lev Chazan stopped his conversation with Dimitri to intervene. "Anyone who causes a fight is riding alone to Washington."

"Noelle," Harlene hissed.

Temporary peace was restored. Harlene quickly made conversation again. "What games do you think she meant?"

Before Noelle could reply, Jacob and Roan came in together. Both were grim-faced like the rest of their creed but Jacob wore an outright scowl.

"Knew something like this was gonna happen," he muttered as he sat down. "It should have happened long ago."

"All measures were taken to keep us safe from exposure," Harlene said. "The President wouldn't—"

"The President can't read minds," Jacob cut her off. "It was someone in the government who ratted us out. You can bet on that."

Harlene scowled as she remembered a smug oily face.

"Marshall."

"Huh?"

"Senator Marshall. Claire said he had ties to some kind of military organization rather than the CAA but she didn't give me any more details than that."

"Who the fuck cares about the CAA?" Jacob hissed. "It's this Virus Creed that can destroy our realities. If Christ forbid the government tells us to battle the CAA over the Virus Creed I'm gonna—"

"Be careful Jake," Roan said.

"Oh, think I'm being treasonous are you?"

"Damn it, I know what they did," Roan said sharply. "Both of them. The Virus Creed and the CAA. They're working together because they need one another. There's no other reason. If we're ordered to battle both of them, why should we refuse?"

"Because the Virus Creed makes the fucking viruses!" Jacob shouted. "Viruses crashed those banks. Viruses cut through those encryptions like tissue paper. You think the CAA could think of something like that or create something like that!? A virus torched that reality. You want the same thing to happen to yours!? To watch Will and Jack and Elizabeth be burned alive!?"

Roan paled.

"They know," Jacob whispered. "Don't you see? They know what our realities mean to us. To the Error Correctors. That's why they've decided to attack now. They wanted to make sure we would be so attached we would do anything to save them. That we'd even be willing to rebel against the government to save them."

"Jacob, no one's talking about rebelling against the government," Harlene said in a hard voice. "We were recruited to protect the realities by the American government. We will protect the realities not only because we love them but hundreds of millions of people…hell our very civilization depends on them."

Jacob's smile was almost sinister.

"Is that what you were thinking as you tried to fall asleep last night? Or were faces all you could see? Faces you would walk through hell again to make sure they didn't turn into mere memories in your mind?"

Harlene drew back as if she had been slapped. Jacob's smile twisted into a grimace.

"Because that's all I could see," he whispered.

There was a long moment of silence between the four of them. Harlene eventually broke it.

"I don't want to think about it. We shouldn't think about something like that. It's hypothetical and moreover, I would go crazy if I thought about it. The Virus Creed and the CAA threaten the realities and our civilization. If we need to fight both of them, we won't choose between the two. We'll find a way to fight both of them."

Jacob snorted. "Easy to say that now."

"You are such a pussy," Noelle said with disgust. "Thinking we can only fight one. Where the fuck is your pride?"

"Where the fuck is your brain?" Jacob countered with equal venom. "The realities belong to the government not us. And there's a war blooming outside our door as we speak. In a war, especially to the government, everything is expendable. That means soldiers and targets. Sacrifice is war. Did you ever think of that?"

Harlene's blood ran cold. She knew what Jacob meant: that if things got bad a few realities could be viewed as expendable and…

Jacob nodded darkly as if he could read exactly what she was thinking on her face. "You've seen several wars take place in your reality, Harlene. Fantasy or not, what happened in them is exactly what takes place in war."

"I won't betray America," she whispered. "I'll protect America along with our realities."

Before Jacob could reply Claire came in and announced that the battalion of National Guards had arrived to escort them to Washington. They would be put into groups of five and each group would ride in a separate section of the hover train. As the groups were being arranged Claire came over to Harlene.

"You're riding with just me."

Harlene exchanged glances with her friends. "Why?" she asked. She wouldn't mind at all riding with Claire, but why was she an exception to the rule?

"I'll tell you when we're on the train," Claire said. Her tone implied she wouldn't be elaborating further.

"You know something, don't you?" Roan stared at her with slightly narrowed eyes.

"I won't insult your intelligence," Claire said coolly. "Don't worry. You'll know while we're being debriefed by the President."

The drive to the station passed quickly even though no one felt like talking anymore. Harlene stared at the armored plating that covered the window and let herself drown in her thoughts. How funny that only yesterday morning she had been getting hyped on exacting as much personal vengeance as she could on the self-righteous fanatical fraud that was the Jedi Order. Now her very reality was in danger of being destroyed unless her creed gave into blackmail.

Her stomach tightened in a knot as faces flashed in her mind as well as memories of warm touches and eyes filled with affection and trust.

What do I tell them? How do I protect them? What will I have to do?

Her anxiety must have been radiating from her because she felt a hand touch her arm. Without a word, she rested her head on Roan's shoulder. She barely glanced at the guards on look out as they disembarked from the cars and boarded the train. When they were settled, she watched her mentor unpack a laptop and begin typing. Ten minutes passed and Claire made no attempt to explain her actions. Quite the contrary she seemed to act as if Harlene wasn't there. Harlene's fear gave way to anger.

"What's going on, Claire?"

"In a moment, Harlene."

She sounded almost casual. Harlene nearly leapt up to knock the laptop to the floor.

"What. The fuck. Is going on?"

Claire didn't spare her a glance. "I said in a moment. Please be quiet."

Harlene stared with half-closed eyes at the door of the compartment before pulling out her comm and checking the news. The CAA hadn't stopped their rampage. Five more banks had crashed and there were rumors of the Nebula Space Station being attacked. After watching clip after clip of chaos and ruin, Harlene's fear and hatred broiled in her gut until she could contain it no longer. She could have drained it, but that was the last thing she wanted to do. With a shriek she hurled her comm into the wall.

"LIKE FUCK I WILL!"

Claire looked up. Her eyes were filled with disapproval. It fed Harlene's rage to the point where she grabbed the laptop and attempted to wrench it to the floor. Claire grabbed her wrists in a bruising grip and pushed her back.

"Stop it."

Harlene gave an animalistic snarl and jerked her wrists forward. Claire released one but before Harlene could take advantage of it, Claire pushed the laptop away and stood up. Harlene found herself pressed against Claire, her face buried on her breast.

"Calm down," her grip was tight but not uncomfortable. Harlene grunted and struggled but began weakened as Claire held her and spoke in a soothing manner. "Calm down. Everything's going to be okay."

Terrified and shivering Harlene slowly wrapped her arms around Claire and tried with all her might to lose herself in the sweet warm comfort. For a few blissful moments she did. When she pulled away she couldn't meet her mentor's eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said in a whisper drenched in shame.

"I know," Claire's hand stroked her cheek. When Harlene finally looked at her guilt hit her like a fist when she saw how tired she looked. Claire sighed. "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have ignored you like that. It wasn't because I wanted to prolong an explanation on purpose. I had to send a report right away."

Harlene nodded. Claire was the spokesperson of the Error Corrector creed, meaning she had more interaction with the government than any of them.

"I don't know why I acted that way," she mumbled still very humiliated.

"Oh, yes you do. And so do I," Claire said seriously. "Inappropriate as it was, it was completely understandable. Though you need to have better control in the future. Hey," at Harlene's still downcast expression, Claire gently lifted her chin up and smiled. "What's say we have a cup of coffee? I was just about done with my report. We can talk after that."

Reassured somewhat, Harlene gave a small smile. "Okay."

After the coffee was made, Harlene sipped hers in silence as Claire finished and sent her report. When she set the laptop aside she took a drink and said, "The President will want to question you personally once we're debriefed."

"Why?"

"Because out of all the people in the universe, you're the only one who would keep a secret that you shouldn't if I asked you to."

Harlene frowned. "What are you saying?"

Claire sighed and set her coffee down. "I've known about the Virus Creed for years."

Harlene almost dropped her mug. "What!?"

"About five months before you were brought to the academy, I noticed that some of the files containing schematics and data about the realities' virtual technology had been copied. I didn't think much of it at the time as I thought the President had requested it from one of the Founders. He's done that before as technology always evolves, so I didn't say anything even though a lot more files had been copied than usual," her mouth tightened. "And several more realities would be dust by now if I had."

"What do you mean?"

"Three years later I was contacted by a mysterious person who called herself Daemon. She told me that a traitor dwelled in our Academy. A traitor that defected to a group of people that managed to make near-duplicates of our virtual technology all on their own. A group of people that can manipulate the interface better than we do, according to Daemon. Fries and her underlings have performed very dangerous experiments with the interface and they received astounding results. If it came to power alone, we wouldn't stand a chance against them."

The mug in Harlene's hand suddenly felt very cold. Claire sighed again.

"I know what you're going to ask: who is Daemon and why haven't I told anyone until now? Daemon told me that she was one of the rejects for the First Twenty-Five and was eventually approached by Fries. Daemon has an incredibly brilliant mind but tested out as too socially withdrawn for our creed. Fries offered her purpose and she accepted. The virus that destroyed that reality was created by Daemon. She created almost every virus that the Virus Creed uses."

"Claire…"

"Let me finish. Daemon claims that she never really asked what her viruses would be used for. For years all she cared about was exercising her genius and having someone make use of it without treating her like freak. But later she discovered, by accident according to her, a virus unlike anything. A virus that slowly chews through the very fabric of the interface. An unstoppable virus. Daemon showed it to Rebecca Fries who was delighted with it. It would be the perfect blackmail material. A virus whose own creator didn't know how to cure. Daemon never intended for her work to bring about the apocalypse so she contacted me."

"How did she contact you?"

"In person. She kept her face hidden and her voice disguised. I don't know who she really is. I attacked her the first time we met and nearly brought her in, but she convinced me to give her a chance. It was months before she gained my trust. I eventually knew she wasn't lying or she would have asked for protection. And by protection I mean close contact with our creed or the President so she could spy on us. She said she would stay with the Virus Creed as a mole. She's been passing information to me ever since."

"Claire," Harlene kept her voice as controlled as she could. "You still haven't told me why you haven't said anything about this."

"Fries knows that Daemon's loyalty isn't rock-solid. If Fries verified any evidence she received from an outside ally that there was a traitor in her midst Daemon would die. It wouldn't be an easy death, and we'd lose the only inside source to the Virus Creed that we'll ever have. Maybe the President would have trusted me, but like any good leader he keeps his enemies closer than his friends. I couldn't risk Daemon's life at all."

Harlene understood. Even if Daemon hadn't been killed by Fries, Fries would still know the government was on to her. To make sure they stayed away, she could have had more realities slaughtered.

"What's you plan?" she asked quietly.

"Daemon is working on a cure to the super virus she created. Once we have it, Fries will be powerless against the realities. Until then we have to wait."

"Claire you could have told me a while ago. You didn't have to be in this alone. I could have—" she trailed off and blushed as she realized what she was saying. What could she have done even if she knew? "Well I could have at least offered moral support," she mumbled.

Claire smiled at her gently. "I know. I wanted to tell you many times but it would have only been an unnecessary burden for you," her fingers brushed Harlene's cheek. "You being in my life alone is all the support I'll ever need."

Harlene's blush deepened but she smiled back and gently squeezed the hand against her face.

"What will you tell the President?"

"What I told you. Except a bit more watered down version. He'll know I have a spy in the Virus Creed."

"But you said—"

"Daemon and I have formulated a plan to discredit certain high-ranking CAA members. A plan that could work without endangering her only after the CAA practically declared war on America. She's made a lot of enemies among them, and when the inevitable spies in our government pass the wrong information…"

"Right information."

"Daemon has assured me she can prove her innocence to Fries. She has enough of Fries's trust. Moreover Daemon is still incredibly useful to the Virus Creed and let me tell you, they have great hatred for the CAA as you can guess from Fries's race. But the Virus Creed needs the CAA's funding. Once the Virus Creed has the realities they plan to destroy the CAA."

"Shame we're not on the same side then," Harlene muttered. "The CAA would have been obliterated by now."

"Well, we'll do what we can for now," Claire said. "Daemon's going to pass information from the CAA to the government so we can at least quell down the destruction somewhat. In the process we'll stir up paranoia among the CAA. But until she finds a cure to the virus she can't help us hurt the Virus Creed directly."

Harlene nodded then whispered, "Claire what about the traitor who defected to the Virus Creed?"

Claire smiled without mirth. "So far only the traitor knows that. Don't worry, they're not anyone in our creed. I made sure of that. But even if we knew who they are they can't hurt us any more than they have. Fries has everything she needs to blackmail us. And even if we knew the pathways the traitor made in the realities that the viruses are fed through, Fries can just have new ones made."

"I don't care," Harlene said darkly. "I'll waterboard that traitor myself."

Claire chuckled but then grew serious again. "I told you so you could be prepared for the interrogation the President will make you undergo. The government isn't going to trust me at all after this. In fact I would be greatly surprised if they didn't ask you to spy on me."

Harlene glared. "Everything you've done makes perfect sense. Like you said if you had told anyone before, Daemon would be dead and she's the only one who can find a cure to the virus. The President has to understand that if nothing else."

"Maybe. But he'll still be suspicious of me regardless. So will the cabinet members."

"What should I tell them?"

"Whatever you do, don't tell them about the super virus or Daemon trying to find a cure. If Fries gets so much as a whiff that we know that, Daemon could die. Don't tell them that Daemon was rejected from the Error Corrector program too. Those who knew her could unveil her identity. Everything else is fine. You'll basically repeat everything I'm going to say."

Harlene looked away. "So I do have to lie to the President."

"No. Tell him I forbade you to tell anyone the rest."

Her eyes went wide. "But they'll imprison you!"

"They can't. I'm the only one who has access to Daemon. The worst they'll do is put me on probation for now. They won't do anything to you either as Star Wars controls too much," She smiled at Harlene's anxiety. "Don't worry. Once they start getting Daemon's information, they'll know I'm doing the right thing."

"Can I tell my friends?"

"I know you don't like lying to them but I'd prefer you didn't. I trust them, but the less people who know the better. Besides your friends are still only human as we are. If they discuss it and god forbid someone overhears…"

"Yeah. I understand," Harlene said though she felt sick. "Claire is the President going to reveal our creed to the public?"

"He can't keep the Virus Creed a secret from the people," Claire responded. "So yes."

xXx

They didn't look as young as he thought they would, but Jon Stewart was wise enough to know it wouldn't make this any easier for him. The Error Correctors, all fifty of them were seated in a town hall along with the Four Founders. Armed guards stood at the entrances. Many more were stationed in the halls and were ordered to kill anyone who tried to get in by force.

He took a second to analyze the faces before him as he mounted the podium. The eldest of them appeared to be in their mid-twenties at the most. He had been told Harlene Ballantine was the youngest. His eyes found her quickly as her pale complexion made her stand out like a sore thumb and they lingered on her face for a brief moment. She appeared older than her age and her eyes even more so. They held the same dark grimness that mirrored those of her colleagues. Jon didn't look at Natalie, but he hoped she would see that these young adults had stopped being children a long time ago. They were already soldiers. Now was the time for them to become official soldiers.

"As you all know America is at war now," the President began. "And not just with the terrorist organization christened the Congress of Aryan Alliances. This Rebecca Fries and her Virus Creed have threatened the core of global stability. We have not received any more messages from her other than the one you are aware of. But in her blackmail, you, the Error Correctors of the United States of America have become directly involved. We still don't know exactly what it is she wants for you to do. But for now we must play along with her game. You all swore and oath to protect and serve America, and now you must fight for America. You will be indoctrinated into the USA military officially. For years your identities have been kept hidden from the people as have the realities. But now they must be revealed. If we don't, then there is a good chance Rebecca Fries or the CAA will do it for us. What's more, the populace cannot be kept in the dark as to who is an enemy and who is an ally. We as a nation do not operate that way. However, your privacy will be respected. I will not reveal your exact names or your faces, but the world will know of your existence and your purpose. They will know that you are fighting for America and the world." He paused before continuing. "A reality was destroyed in under five minutes, which means that we cannot risk looking for the Virus Creed at the moment. Until the threat is neutralized, we must agree to Fries's demands. We don't know when she will contact us again. Until she does, we must use our time wisely. After the indoctrinations are complete, you will return to your academy soon after. You will continue to correct errors in your realities but in much shorter intervals of time. To combat the Virus Creed directly and triumph, you must hone your virtual minds and bodies to their peak. You must be unrivalled warriors," Jon made sure his eyes met all of theirs for at least two seconds. "I do not want to ask this of you. You were never meant to fight wars. But times have changed. We must deal with what is. Are there any questions?"

A blond young man that Jon recognized as Jacob Ryan raised his hand.

"If we're officially in the military, do we get all the benefits? Do we get retirement? Pensions? What about a PX card?"

A few people laughed. The young Asian woman beside Jacob looked as if she wanted to clobber him.

"We'll see," Jon said. At the boy's crestfallen expression he added, "Pensions will have to wait for quite a while. But I think we can work something out as far as a PX card goes."

Lev Chazan asked the next question. "Do you know who stole access to the realities? Who betrayed us?"

"We do not. But we will find out."

"Was Rebecca Fries a reject for the Error Corrector program?" Lev continued. The youth had a very aggressive voice. "Do you recognize her at all?"

"Unfortunately no," Jon said. "But as I said we will find out the identities of her and her creed."

"You won't be able to do that, Mr. President," Claire Selton said. "At least regular soldiers won't. The Virus Creed is anything but careless. Their true identities were erased a long time ago. Perhaps they themselves have forgotten them."

All eyes were now boring into the young red-haired woman whose impeccable calm poise did not waver. All looked curious, suspicious and confused.

Except for Harlene Ballantine.

Jon asked in a controlled tone, "How do you know that?"

Claire smiled without humor.

"Because I have a spy there."

xXx

They were all granted the title of gunnery sergeant. Gwen Rand, the highest ranking officer in the Marine Corps and current Chair of the Joint Chief of Staff, told them they would be contacted when Rebecca Fries showed her face again. In the meanwhile they were to train as hard as they could in between their now-limited error correcting schedule. They would be leaving Washington after their route home was secure which would be in three days. The President told them they could enjoy their new 'perks' as Non Coms as they wanted until they had to leave.

But that would have to wait.

"What did she tell you?"

Ironically it was Roan who demanded answers first rather than Jacob. After being dismissed the Error Correctors were set up in dorms in the local military base. Noelle and Harlene shared one, but Jacob and Roan had followed them in so they could all talk in privacy.

Harlene stared at her friend's faces. They weren't accusing but very serious.

"Everything she said in the meeting," she replied.

"Bullshit," Jacob and Noelle said simultaneously.

Harlene took and deep breath and let it out slowly. "Guys, there's a lot more important things going on right now than you not knowing everything."

"Oh, and we don't know that," Noelle said with a sarcastic snarl. Her brown eyes were blazing. "The CAA is going on a fucking rampage, some Virus Creed wants to destroy our realities…stop being a self-centered condescending bitch!"

"That's rich coming from you," Harlene said coldly. "Jumping at me like that without giving me the chance to explain…and you always said I sprang to conclusions all the time when we were younger."

"Tell us what she told you then," Noelle said without apology.

"I can't. She said that the less people that know the better. I believe her."

"Is she making you help her with this? Is that why she told you? She can't have told you just because she trusts you."

"And you know that how?" Harlene was all but shouting. "Because I know, maybe I can help her in the future. And maybe she did tell me just because she trusts me. She doesn't like lying to me."

"Technically she wouldn't be," Roan muttered. "She'd just be withholding information."

"What is with you all?" Harlene shouted. "You're all acting like you think Claire is the enemy! Her reasons and her logic make perfect sense. Don't you see that she's risking her reputation and maybe imprisonment for a chance at our biggest shot at the Virus Creed!? What would you have done in her place, huh!?"

Their scowls softened at bit, but their eyes were still disturbed.

"It's not that," Jacob said at last. "We've always been soldiers. We'd never have made it this far if we were selfish little pricks who wanted to be privy to everything just for ego's sake. It's just…I have a bad feeling about this."

No one called on the cliché. But Harlene raised her brow at Jacob.

"Are you suspicious of Claire or her plan?"

"No," he sighed heavily. "I would've done the same in her place. That is if I hadn't managed to fuck everything up in the process. Well if you must know we're worried about you."

Harlene blinked. "Me?"

"Claire would have kept deeper details a complete secret if she had to," Noelle said. "And she would have. She is going to involve you directly. You can count on that."

"Guys just because I know more than you doesn't mean I know everything. Claire could still be keeping stuff from me."

"But you know more than anyone, including the President," Roan pointed out.

Harlene was silent for a moment. "If she does involve me, I won't refuse. I'll consult with you as best I can. But if I have to risk my life for duty and what's precious to me, then nothing and no one will stop me. You would all do the same."

"Yeah, but we're worried for you, you know?" Jacob said in an unusually gentle voice. "You've been our kid sister for so long…even if you do manage to kick our asses every now and then when we spar. We'd all go in your place in a heartbeat."

"And I would in yours so we're at a stalemate," Harlene smiled before becoming serious again. "I trust Claire with my life and with your lives, but I won't follow her blindly. She's still only human like the rest of us. I can only promise I'll do what I feel is right."

They said goodnight soon afterward and Harlene's heart lifted and constricted at the same time as she watched Roan and Jacob go.

We're soldiers now. There's no telling what we'll have to do in the future. They could die…

She shook her head to break off the line of thought. All Error Correctors were anything but strangers to loss and they had all known different kinds of war. It was time to know a new kind and as the President said they needed to deal with what was.

(you've been doing that for so long, child. Be strong and stand firm)

Harlene didn't want to go to bed just yet. She flicked on the television and flipped through various shows whose entire seasons were programmed to watch at the viewer's pleasure. Harlene eventually decided on the last episode of Rome, one her favorites. Near the episode's end, Noelle came to join her. She had just gotten out of the shower and was clad only in a towel. They both watched silently as the showdown between Atia of the Junnii and Lydia played out.

"I know who you are," Atia said to Lydia. "I can see you. You're swearing now that someday you'll destroy me. Remember: far better women than you have sworn to do the same. Go and look for them now."

Noelle snorted. "What a cop-out. First Atia is an evil, bitchy, dumb-as-shit manipulator and now she's the hero who'll take Lydia down? The writers must have been smoking something when they were working on this scene."

Harlene was in agreement, but her mind strayed to another subject.

"Do you ever think how different we would have been if we were born in that era?"

Noelle looked at her.

"Think about it," Harlene continued. "The women in this series had to do everything they could to gain and hold any semblance of power and respect. And it could have been taken away in an instant because of their gender and the time they were born in, so the things they had to do…the so-called friends they betrayed and killed just so they could come out on top…" she stared into Noelle's eyes. "In a lot of ways we're like them. We're ambitious and ruthless. We're not afraid to speak our minds and we would kill to protect ourselves and our loved ones without batting an eye. And the thought of doing so barely disturbs us if it disturbs us at all."

"We're not like them in the way that counts," Noelle said. "We don't degrade or steal from the people we're supposed to care about for our own ends. Atia and Servilia did care about their children, but they cared about themselves more."

"But would we have been like them if we had been born in that era?"  
"Why do you care? We were born in this era. I don't see any point in wondering."

"What if we weren't rescued from the slums?"

"Again: why do you care? We were rescued. That's all there is to it."

"I guess you're right. But I can't help but wonder."

"You shouldn't wonder."

"What do you mean?"

"We do what we have to do. We're not afraid of words and we would manipulate if we had to not because we can," Noelle smiled. "We're not Atia. We have brains and pragmatism. And you baby sister have power."

Harlene looked away. "Yeah," it came out as little more than a tiny sigh.

"I said you shouldn't wonder because that's what your other friends should do. They ought to get down on their knees and thank God that you aren't a manipulator or they would have been done for."

Before Harlene could think of a reply to that the doorbell rang.

"Get dressed," she said to Noelle and waited for her to disappear into the bathroom before answering.

Two men were standing there, dressed in FBI uniforms.

"Harlene Ballantine?" one of them asked.

She nodded.

"I'm agent Bode," he showed her his badge. "This is agent King. The President has requested a private audience with you."

"What do you want with her?" Harlene was slightly shocked at the speed Noelle had dressed but her wet uncombed hair was plastered down to her glaring face.

"The President will explain," Agent Bode said, ignoring Noelle. "You need to come with us."

Harlene gave Noelle a helpless shrug. Noelle made no further attempt to stop them but she was still scowling when the door closed.

xXx

Jon Stewart was a man who valued fairness. He had questioned Claire Selton in private after she had made her announcements after the meeting this morning. It hadn't ended very well. Though he agreed that if he had acted on the information her spy had given her any earlier than now, the spy would be dead, he made it explicit that Claire should have at least told him. There were traitors in their midst, but precautions could have been made. As Commander in Chief, he needed to know any information that would defend America even if he couldn't act on it as soon as he wanted. But Claire hadn't wavered.

"I followed my instincts, Mr. President. They told me Daemon would die if I hadn't waited to tell you and Fries would have butchered more realities. I was sworn to protect and serve the United States at any cost. Even if I have to suffer that cost be it probation, life imprisonment or execution."

In the end he had put her on probation, though he took no pleasure in it. If this Daemon's information proved to be as valuable an asset as Claire claimed it would, she would be cleared of all charges. Until then she would be carefully watched. Especially since she had all but said she was still keeping things from him. He knew it was to protect her spy, but he had no choice in what he was about to do next.

"Don't try to intimidate her," he told General Rand who was right beside him. "Remember she's still only a teenager. If she resents us she won't say anything."

"If you're not firm," the Chair countered, her voice harsh and gravelly. "She'll think you're a pushover. You know if she doesn't talk we'll have to put her on probation too."

"I know," he said through a clenched jaw. "But we're still not certain if Claire told her anything more."

The look she gave him held condescension. "I was watching their faces when Claire made her announcements. She was the only one who wasn't surprised."

"We still can't jump to conclusions."

Jon's heart sunk a bit when a familiar pale teenage girl was escorted into the Oval Office.

He wouldn't take pleasure in this either.

"Hello, Harlene," he stood up and rounded the desk. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

She smiled back and shook his hand. "Likewise. I'm just sorry it's under these circumstances."

"We all are," he said and gestured for her to sit in one of the sofas. He and the Chair took the ones on the opposite sides. "Your mentor has been sent back already. I'm sorry that I had to put her on probation."

"She doesn't deserve it," Harlene said. "But I can't blame you."

Jon nodded. "Harlene I'm going to have to ask you a few questions."

"You want to ask only one," the girl replied. "And that is: What has Claire told me that she hasn't told you."

It seemed she hadn't lost her frankness since the last time he had seen her. However unlike him, General Rand wasn't the slightest bit amused by it.

"You'd better show some respect brat," she pierced the girl with a glare that made senior officers quake in her boots. "The consequences for being a smart-ass are greater than the ones for not cooperating."

"So I'm being disrespectful for saying out loud that I know why I'm here? You would rather I play dumb?"

"Please, enough," the President held up a hand. General Rand was now staring daggers at Harlene, who looked only bored. "Harlene I'm not accusing you of anything, but I need an honest answer: has Claire told you anything more?"

She looked genuinely regretful. "I can't tell you."

"And why is that?" Jon's tone was severe.

"Because of the consequences."

"What consequences?"

"If Claire's spy dies, we might as well give the realities to the Virus Creed."

"Harlene, listen to me: As Commander in Chief, I need to know any information that can help, even if I can't act on it. If it endangers Daemon, I promise you I won't. But I need to know."

"Mr. President, can you swear on your soul that this room is secure? That anyone with ulterior motives won't overhear us?"

"We can take precautions. We can make sure no one else will hear."

"So your security is infallible?"

"Harlene—"

"Mr. President," she leaned forward and there was a genuine plea in her eyes. "I do not want to do this. If I was one-hundred percent sure this room could be utterly secure, I would tell you everything in a heartbeat. But only God could tell me such a thing. I can't tell you, but I can swear on my life that the information I have will not help our situation. But it would greatly help our enemies if they knew," she sighed and for a long moment she looked decades older. "I was wrong. You want to ask something else: am I more loyal to Claire than America. The answer is no. If it would hurt America to keep things from you, I would disobey. But the last thing Claire wants is to aide our enemies in this war and she's gotten us the best chance we have to defeat them at great personal risk. If you don't trust my word, I beg of you to trust in that at least."

The intensity of her stare was beyond anything he had ever seen. Her eyes were pleading, but also accepting of the consequences that would befall her at one word from him.

She's that loyal to America a voice whispered in his mind.

After a long tense moment, the President nodded.

"Very well."

"Mr. President—"

"I said very well," he said respectfully but firmly to General Rand. To Harlene he said, "I'll give you and your mentor one chance. But if the information her spy has doesn't turn the tide, I'll have no choice but to incarcerate the both of you."

There was no apprehension on Harlene's face. Only relief. "Thank you so much."

"When did your mentor tell you about her spy?" General Rand demanded.

"Why does that matter? I still couldn't have told you."

"Answer the question."

"With all due respect, I need to know where it will lead."

"A soldier does not question their superiors, Sergeant Ballantine."

"A solider also never compromises the nation's security."

General Rand leaned forward. "I am under the President's command, but you are under his and mine. Answer me."

Jon didn't interfere as General Rand was correct. She would be seeing more of the Error Correctors than he would in the coming months. The Error Correctors weren't used to taking orders apart from the standard, and it needed to be impressed upon them that those times were over.

"A good commander does not talk down to their soldiers when they ask a question that has legitimate value," Harlene's voice was cutting. "I ask my question not to be insolent, but because I am concerned about national security. You have nothing to lose by answering it."

General Rand was perfectly stone-faced. Then she smiled.

"I think you could grow on me. Eventually."

Jon smiled slightly as well. He had chosen General Rand as Chair because she wasn't your typical commander. Now more than ever, he could see he had chosen well.

"You will show respect though," General Rand said. "You will address me as General or ma'am, and if you question me when I question you, it must be asked with standard protocol. Is that understood, Sergeant?"

Harlene saluted. "Yes ma'am."

"How old are you?"

"Fourteen years and four months, General."

If General Rand was surprised, she didn't show it. "I'll give you credit. You've got plenty of guts and cunning. Is Ybor and your mentor to blame?"

"Partly, ma'am."

"Partly?"

"Surviving Ybor and having Claire Selton as your mentor teaches you things you normally wouldn't learn and gives you a thick skin. But living to tell how you mouthed off to the likes of Darth Sidious, Darth Maul, Mace Windu, Count Dooku, Jango Fett, Aurra Sing, General Grievous and Kar Vastor helps a great deal too."


	3. Chapter 3

The dreamer awakened a second time but was not subjected to feelings of lethargy or semi-consciousness. He was fully awake. He could feel solidness beneath his prostrate form. He could move his limbs. He could open his eyes to the blackness around him. But he still couldn't get up.

A growl of anger escaped his mouth as he struggled against whatever power was holding him down. He reached for the dark side but couldn't touch it. In fact, wherever he was the Force itself seemed to elude him.

You will not believe this, but there are things greater than the Force.

That voice…he recognized that voice. Genderless. Speciesless. Ageless.

"Who are you?" his voice was very hoarse but still threatening.

Take a moment to remember first. I've said before that you're safe. I'm not your enemy.

Some alien power invaded his mind. It calmed him. Soothed him. He fought against it.

"Stop," he gripped his head. "Stop it."

Take a moment, the voice added in an amused tone. You can't do anything else yet, can you?

The responding growl promised vengeance but the dreamer did as suggested. It wasn't long before everything came flooding back.

Looking down at the helpless Jedi Padawan. Reveling in his victory. Then recalling what he had learned from her. Preparing to defend himself after the Force surged violently from the Padawan. Preparing to block and then kill—

The dreamer gritted his teeth against the memories that followed, against the shame and rage. He had failed his Master. Failed to kill both Jedi, to make sure their plans came to fruition. Of course his Master's plans could and would succeed without him, but still…

"I died," the dreamer said in a hollow tone. "I failed."

You didn't. To both of those statements.

"Shut up," he hissed. "You know nothing."

I think you'll soon find out just how wrong you are.

The dreamer was silent and still for a long moment. He didn't try to rise again, but he reached out. The Force was still absent but something was there. A great and powerful something beyond anything he had ever sensed before, not from his Master or the dark side. And he was barely touching the surface. At this knowledge the dreamer felt…not fear but great uneasiness.

"Who are you?" he asked.

Ummm…I don't have a name exactly. Damn, I should have thought of something before waking you up.

Incredulous at the sudden sheepish tone, the dreamer asked, "What are you?"

Sorry. Can't answer that either. At least not right now.

The dreamer paused again knowing that anger or threats wouldn't get him what he wanted. Forcing himself to remain calm he asked, "Did you save me?"

Technically, yes. You were supposed to die…but you weren't.

"Is there any point," the dreamer bit out through clenched teeth. "In asking you questions if all I am going to get is vague riddles in response?"

Maybe you're not asking the questions you should be asking in the present time.

The dreamer couldn't picture this infuriating super being's throat in his hands so he pictured the next best thing: the Jedi neophyte that had cut him down.

I know it's not easy, the voice held a sympathetic edge. But I can't tell you everything yet.

The dreamer stared at his clenched hand, shrouded in blackness. "Why am I alive?"

Because you have a great purpose. You have something to live for.

"My purpose is to serve my Master. I live to kill Jedi. There is nothing else."

We both know that's Sithspit, the voice said. What were you dreaming about?

Waking up in a forest…seeing a small form run through the trees…stopping in front of one, panting…then turning around so he could see a beautiful white face and black eyes he would recognize no matter what state she was in…no matter how old she was…

"Harlene."

As he said her name the dream came back, vivid and clear. He had seen the red paint on her dress and had mistaken it for blood. He had tried to call out to her but she hadn't heard him. Something had prevented him from approaching her. But she had sensed him. And she had wanted to play. He had chased her, determined to catch her, but then she had fallen and then a human male with a knife-

The dreamer hadn't realized he almost succeeded in rising due to the strength his fury and fear leant him.

She's alive, the voice assured him. Don't worry.

Of course she was alive. She had been years older when they first met. But in that dream someone had tried to kill her as a child. Was it a metaphor? A Force vision?

She was dreaming about her past, the voice said. I connected her mind to yours. You shared her dream.

The humiliation at his failure turned darker in his guts as he realized she had witnessed his death as well as his triumph over Qui-Gon Jinn. He hadn't given her the Jedi's lightsaber as promised. And she had seen the Padawan slice him in half.

She wanted me to win he thought. She prayed for the Force to be with me before I left.

And that vision of her…the goddess of darkness he had seen before his death…

"You," he breathed. "You showed her to me before I died. I know it was her."

I did.

"Can I return to my Master?"

No. But you can see her again. She's dreaming right now. Do you want to see her?

There was no hesitation in his reply.

"Yes."

xXx

The child decided not to wait for Mommy or Daddy to pick her up from school. She wanted to leave right now.

That scary man who had pointed a knife at her had disappeared. Two of the child's classmates had come across the child's prone form and had poked her with sticks. When the pain in her head had subsided, the child had tried to warn them about the man but they had just laughed and run away. But they made sure to throw dirt on her before they left. The child's head was swimming with pain and exhaustion and she was covered with blood. She wanted to go home before the man came back.

The child got to her feet and whimpered with pain, touching the large cut on her head. It was drying, which was a good thing. Knowing her dress was already ruined the child wiped her dirty hands on the skirt and began walking. She felt like collapsing and sobbing, but she had to get home.

He could come back and kill me.

(stand firm, child)

Feeling an unexpected surge of strength, the child started to run again. She knew she was about halfway through the woods before she skidded to a halt.

The stranger from before was behind her.

Slowly, fearfully, she turned around as the bushes rustled. From behind a tree he emerged.

The child was so astonished the words left her mouth before she could stop them.

"Darth Maul?"

Well, of course it wasn't Darth Maul. It was a man dressed like Darth Maul and wearing black and red face paint, fake horns and yellow contacts. He had been staring at her with piercing intensity and caution, but when she said his "name" he blinked in surprise.

"Do you recognize me?"

He even sounded like Darth Maul in The Phantom Menace. The child peered closely at him.

"Yes," she replied.

A flicker of relief passed over his features. He immediately came up to her and grasped her arms. "Come with me. Now."

She didn't like his tone. As if he expected her to obey him just because he said so. Scowling, she wrenched free from his grip and backed away several steps.

"No. Go away. I don't know you."

"Yes you do," he tried to get close to her again but the child kept moving back. "You said you did. Stop playing games and come with me."

His normally soft, deep voice was hard and demanding. The child began to grow fearful. His face was scary. She had sensed his fury before and now it was visible for her to see.

"I will not harm you," he said, still trying to get close to her. "You are in danger. You must come with me."

There was no real concern or worry in his tone, but there was fear and urgency. The child continued to back away.

"I'm not going with you."

His lips pulled back revealing blackened teeth(burned teeth?). Before the child knew it, he was in front of her grasping her arms. The child cried out and threw herself to the ground. Maul fell on top of her.

"Let me go!"

"Stop it!" he snapped at her. "You are hurt and exhausted. If that human comes back-"

"I'm going home," the child continued to struggle. "I need to get back to Mommy and Daddy!"

"Your parents cannot protect you. I can," he snarled. "Come with me."

He was too strong for her. And if she continued to fight him like this he could hurt her or knock her out. The child would have to use a low tactic that Daddy taught her as a last resort.

She ceased her struggles and went limp in his arms. His grip loosened in response. Clearly he thought she would obey him. Summoning all her strength, the child drew her legs up and kicked out hard. Her shoes connected with his chin and he let out a grunt. The child didn't waste time to see how much damage she had done. She scrambled from under him and took off.

"Stop!"

The child ran harder than she had ever run in her life without looking back. She could hear Maul's yells and shouts behind her, but they eventually grew faint. The child knew she shouldn't be able to outrun him, but didn't question her luck or God watching out for her. Up ahead she could see the forest part to reveal the town she lived in. When she emerged she collapsed to her knees, gasping for air. The world swam due to sheer exhaustion but the knowledge that she was still being chased gave her the strength to get up. The child hauled herself to her feet and walked as fast as she could. Running was impossible now in her state.

Home was a mile ahead. Mommy would be there to hug her and give her a bath. The child knew how filthy she was, covered in paint and blood and dirt. She would also tell Mommy she wouldn't go back to that school again. Mommy would understand and so would Daddy.

Even through pain and fatigue, the child was mildly surprised that no one seemed to be out right now. The child was glad about that. No one would see her the way she was. But it was still very unusual.

Finally she saw home up ahead. Mommy was busy tending to the small garden in their yard but looked up at the child's approach. Her light brown eyes went wide as the child staggered toward her. She shouted something and ran to where the child collapsed to her knees.

The child began sobbing loudly as Mommy's arms embraced her. She couldn't comprehend the soothing words of comfort she was being told and was only vaguely aware when Mommy scooped her up in her arms and carried her to the bath. The child fell asleep as Mommy bathed her and treated her cuts and bruises. The large one made by the rock now had a bandage taped over it. The child awoke to find herself warm, dry and in her sleep clothes. Mommy was carrying her to bed.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, child?"

Her small form was carefully tucked under the sheets. "I don't wanna go back there again. I hate it. I hate all of them."

"Shhh, don't worry about that," Mommy's hand tenderly caressed her face. "You don't have to go there again. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have sent you there."

"They don't worship God or Jesus," the child said. Tears were welling up again. "God doesn't care if I'm a gypsy-Jew…"

"No, God loves you because of who you are," Mommy insisted. Her hand still rested on her face. The child drank in the love in her eyes, her long red hair and skin as white as her own. "Don't let what they tell you get to you. You know the truth."

The child smiled weakly before giving Mommy a fearful look. "Mommy, someone tried to kill me today."

Mommy blinked. "What?"

"There was a man in the woods. He threw a rock at my head. He said you made a mistake but I would apologize. He pulled out a knife…"

Mommy's hand gripped the blankets very hard. There was sheer terror on her face.

"What did he look like?" she whispered.

"He was tall…he had dark brown hair…his eyes looked very crazy…"

Mommy bit her lip and looked away. In the dim light the child could see tears in her eyes.

"You're not going back to that school," her whisper grew strangled. "Don't worry."

The child tried to sit up. "Mommy? Are you all right?"

Mommy nodded quickly even before the child finished asking her question. "Yes. Sleep now."

The child knew something was very wrong but didn't ask anymore as Mommy left the room. The child wanted to wait for Daddy to come home but she was too tired. She drifted off to sleep.

It was midnight when she woke up to a flood of emotions that were not her own: hatred, despair and loneliness. They were very similar to the emotions she felt when she was in the forest. The child sat up and concentrated.

The stranger. Darth Maul. He was still in the forest. Had he gotten lost?

Was he still looking for her?

The child didn't know why. She didn't know him and he didn't know her. But he had insisted she was in danger and wanted to take her with him. Supposedly to protect her.

She didn't know him…but somehow she knew he hadn't been lying.

The child bit her lip. The emotions were growing stronger. Maul was lost in the forest. At night. And he didn't know how to get out.

(you can do something child)

She had hated the way he had tried to force her to come with him. He may be evil but…actually she wasn't certain if he was truly evil. He hadn't really done much in the movie The Phantom Menace. She didn't really know anything about him. Maybe he was trapped somehow. Like she was trapped with her mixed blood.

And why was she thinking about him as if he was real?

Unable to ignore his pain, the child climbed out of bed and got dressed as quietly as she could. She took a small glow stone with her in case it became too dark to see. She passed Mommy and Daddy's room which was open. They were both fast asleep. The child would have to come back quickly. She would be in big trouble if they woke up and found her gone.

The child opened the door and stepped out into the night. The lampposts were on, lighting up the pitch black sky. She shivered. It wasn't cold enough for her to wear a jacket, but the darkness made it seem colder. It probably felt a lot colder and darker in the forest where there were no lamps. The child began walking quickly. She eventually broke into a run when she felt the emotions grow stronger.

"I'm coming," she whispered.

The inside of the forest looked as dark and terrifying as she had feared. With a trembling hand she withdrew the glow stone and stepped inside the trees. The grass and mulch crunched beneath her shoes. It was a very good thing she had brought the glow stone with her. Even with it she could barely see three feet in front of her.

Minutes passed. The child wondered if she should called out when she felt a hand grab her arm from behind. The child screamed and dropped the glow stone. Her cry grew muffled when another hand clapped over her mouth.

She felt both relief and terror when she found herself face-to-face with Maul. The faint light from the glow stone reflected white off his tattooed skin. His eyes were filled with disbelief and confusion. Slowly, he took his gloved hand away from her mouth but didn't let go of her.

"You came back."

For some reason his tone made her sad. As if he expected her to abandon him here.

"You got lost, didn't you?" the child whispered.

He stared down at her. "I cannot sense the Force here. You disappeared behind a tree. I tried to locate you, but the forest seemed endless."

"I got out," the child said.

The intensity of his gaze grew. There was something very…familiar about it that wasn't related to the Star Wars movie. His hand ran down her hair.

"Perhaps only you were meant to."

"You don't deserve to be lost," the child said. "I…I came back to find you."

His face didn't change, but he knelt in front of her and seized her in his arms, pressing her against him much to the child's shock. His face was buried in her hair and his breathing sounded

ragged.

The child could still sense his emotions. The affection he felt was almost purely selfish. There was no love but deep possessiveness. Obsession.

But there was relief too, and contentment. He was cold and alone and he wanted her to end it.

(stay with me)

It was as if he had whispered the plea in her ear.

The child's arms came up and wrapped around his back. She fully accepted his embrace, burying her face in his tunic. His scent was exotic and he felt…safe. After a while he pulled away but kept one hand on her shoulder while the other caressed her face.

"Come with me."

There was a plea buried in the demand. His golden eyes glowed with the ferocity of his will. It was the only thing he could use to convince her and he knew it.

The child put her hand on his. "You tried to force me before. I think that's why you got lost."

He seemed to consider that if only for a second. His eyes narrowed. "You are in danger, Harlene, and you can't defend yourself against it. You know this."

The child squinted at him. "Why did you call me Harlene? That's not my name."

"Your name is not important," he hissed grasping her shoulders. "Let me take you from here."

The child smiled. "You couldn't even if you wanted to. You're trapped here, and just because I can get out of the forest doesn't mean I can escape."

He was very angry, but the child wasn't concerned. She reached up to touch his face.

"I'm not going anywhere."

Her hand had barely made contact with his skin when the dream ended.

"Maul?"

His name popped from her mouth as she awoke. Harlene raised her head from her pillow and looked wildly around. It was near sunrise and she was in the military dorm she and Noelle shared. They would be leaving on the hover train back home in a few hours. She could go back to sleep for a little while if she wanted, but she felt too awake to try. With a sigh she drew back the covers and padded to the shower. When she emerged, dressed and ready she found Noelle in the living area, still in her sleep clothes and munching on a granola bar.

"I thought wasting water was on your list of the seven deadly sins," the older girl remarked wryly. "You were in there for nearly an hour and a half. For your sake I hope there's still some hot water left."

Harlene ignored her and went to the refrigerator. She poured herself a glass of cold water and sipped it slowly.

"You all right?"

"Yeah," Harlene didn't look at her. "Fine."

"Bullshit," Noelle said coldly. "Did you lie to me last night? What did the President really do to you?"

"I told you the truth," Harlene said in a slow annoyed voice. "He gave me his trust."

Noelle looked at the table in front of her then back at Harlene. "Still thinking about the Virus Creed?"

Harlene took another drink of water, glanced briefly at Noelle and sighed. "I've been dreaming about my past lately."

Noelle immediately perked up.

"I was right. I have Romanian blood. Gypsy blood to be precise. And I think my father may have been Jewish or Muslim."

"Something like that wouldn't bother you," Noelle said. "You would be proud. Happy even. Did you dream about something else?"

Harlene wouldn't look at her. "Maul was there."

Noelle blinked. "Maul? Darth Maul?"

Harlene nodded.

"I thought you were over him."

Harlene frowned at her. "You sound like we were dating and then broke up," she smiled and gave a short laugh. "Christ that sounds so weird."

"Fucking hilarious is more like it," Noelle shoved the last piece of granola into her mouth and got to her feet. "Well as long as you didn't have any ultra-spooker nightmares—"

"It felt so real," Harlene whispered. She stared at her shimmering reflection in the water glass. "I guess that means it was just a lucid dream but…I don't know. I guess I don't understand why I would dream of Maul along with my past."

"Ah, who the hell knows the mystery of the subconscious," Noelle tossed the wrapper in the trash. "Sounds like you need a distraction, baby sister if this persists."

"Oh, I'm definitely in need of that," Harlene said sarcastically. "America is at war, our training is going to be taken to extreme levels…yeah, I need a fucking distraction. And what distraction do you have in mind?"

"You're not a naïve little prude anymore. So I don't need to say it."

Harlene's eyes widened slightly, but she couldn't stop the small smile. "Noelle…"

"You know damn well how many heads you turned when we were cruising through the officer's club," Noelle smirked. "Poor bastards probably kept their roommates awake all night with all their jerking off."

Harlene rolled her eyes and put her glass in the sink. "You are beyond shameless."

"Tell me something I don't know," Noelle flipped her comm on at put it to her eye. "You could have had some fun."

"I'm fourteen, Noelle. Some of the soldiers there were well past thirty."

"You're not."

"Not what?"

"Fourteen. What with all the time you've been spending in your reality, I'd be shocked if you weren't almost as old as my body is right now."

Harlene frowned again. "That's a technicality."

"If you don't accept it," Noelle took her comm away and gave her a dry smile. "Then you'll need to take back all the times you called Edward Cullen a pedophile."

Harlene stared at her incredulously before laughing. "Oh, anything but that. That's one of my reasons for living. But seriously I'm not into…fun like that. Not now."

Noelle shrugged. "Suit yourself."

"Besides," Harlene smiled predatorily. "I'm already planning on having a different kind of fun. With the Jedi."

General Rand bid the Error Correctors farewell before they boarded the hover train. Her eyes lingered briefly on Harlene before she turned away.

"Charmed her, have you?" Roan asked.

"I wouldn't say that," Harlene said. "But I don't think she hates me, which is a good thing."

"Ahh," Jacob settled lazily in his seat, leaning back. "The perks of being in the military. Who would have thought they'd be so awesome."

"You barely spent an hour in the PX store," Roan pointed out. "Why'd you whine to the President about getting a card if you weren't going to use it?"

"Because the girls were hotter in the officer's club," Jacob grinned. "And feistier."

Roan raised an eyebrow at him. Jacob's smile fell.

"Oh, don't give me the look," he sighed. "Well, I guess you're right. I should be grateful for what I have. Why should I seek out female companionship when I already have two phenomenally gorgeous young women who can tolerate the same air I breathe?"

He gestured to Harlene and Noelle. The latter smirked at him. "You're still a man-whore, Jacob. All the sweet-talking in the universe won't change that."

"Ooo," Jacob mimed a knife through his heart. "Right there."

Noelle turned to Harlene. "You wanna tell them?"

"About what?" Roan asked immediately.

Harlene shrugged. "Nothing's wrong or anything. I've just been dreaming about my past. My real last name is Martinelli."

"Yeah, you said you were from Italy," Jacob said.

"And I've also learned that my past isn't pretty," she continued. "I was teased for being a gypsy-Jew at some Christian-fanatic pre-school and a man tried to kill me. Luckily I managed to escape."

Jacob whistled, but it only added to the suddenly serious atmosphere. "Damn."

"My mother was scared of him," a terrible thought occurred to her. "I think he had something to do with my parent's death, though I don't know his true relation to them."

"Well, that makes four of us," Roan said. "In the fucked up life department before we survived the slums, I mean."

Harlene nodded. All of her friends had told her different and very grim stories as to how they ended up in the slums. Noelle's family had been killed by a mudslide in Korea while Jacob's synagogue had been bombed by terrorists in Ireland. Roan claimed his mother loved him, but left him in an alley in Britain and never returned.

"And we were recruited to become the envy of the world," she said looking pointedly at Jacob. "Right?"

He grimaced. "I was a stupid kid when I said that. I'm not now."

"Well, I wouldn't have it any other way despite everything," Harlene said. "I really am that fucked up."

"Join the club," Jacob said. "But there are plenty of perks that the normalcy of the human race wouldn't frown on us for enjoying," he learned forward so quickly that Harlene almost flinched. "How are you going to decimate the Catholic Church, huh? Tell me."

The Catholic Church was what Jacob had freely started calling the Jedi Order recently. "That I don't know yet, still," she responded. "But I'm not worried," she leaned back, a sadistic gleam in her eye. "I'll think of something they won't forget. I'm just sorry I'm starting so late. But it's my own fault."

"Claire kept all that stuff from you—"

"That's one of the reasons she did," Harlene said. "She said she wanted me to be older, more mature. If I knew everything then, well…I might have done something to fuck up the reality." She looked at her knees and her voice grew grim and hard. "But she didn't have to keep anything from me. I had everything I needed the second I watched the closing credits to The Phantom Menace. Who would have thought Lucas would have put such a subtle twist on what the Jedi Order was supposed to be?"

"We know what they're supposed to be," Noelle said. "And it's not selfish, dogmatic sanctimonious fucks."

"Well, Palpatine's rise to power was almost parallel to Bushy-Boy Junior's during Iraq," Jacob said. "Methinks he decided to change a couple of things he originally planned. With the Jedi, he definitely wanted to base them off some ancient fanatic religious order. I doubt he ever intended for Oobadooba to be a strong female character or Anakin to be some-what decent."

"He is," Harlene said sharply. "You know he is. He's not a genuinely good person…but he could have been. He would have been. And you all know who's to blame for that."

No one confirmed or denied it which was answer enough. Harlene was about to say something else when the door slid open.

"Harlene, a word."

Harlene shrugged at her friends before following her mentor to her private compartment.

"All of us are going to be driving ourselves harder than ever until the Virus Creed and the CAA are no longer a threat," Claire said once they were seated. "Apart from greater skill, we're going to see how much we can hone our virtual minds and bodies to the interface. Harlene," she leaned forward. "I haven't taught you everything I know. I always intended to. But the process is going to have to go faster than I'm comfortable with, despite my great faith in you."

"Do what you have to do, Claire," Harlene didn't bat an eye. "I'm not so arrogant as to say I can handle whatever is thrown at me. But I will accept it."

"You can, Harlene. I know you can. I'm sure you already know that's another reason I confided so much into you. You're involvement in the defeat of the Virus Creed is going to be deeper than your friends."

Harlene nodded. "I know," she said quietly.

"Harlene…" Claire put her hands on her shoulders. "If anything happens to me—your training will give you what you need to lead the Error Correctors against the Virus Creed."

Harlene's eyes widened. "Lead…? Claire…our creed doesn't have a leader! Well…maybe you're the unofficial one—"

"You're right. The Error Correctors don't have a leader. But Daemon has recently told me the Virus Creed sees me as exactly that. And the games Fries will make us play for the realities will always involve the leader."

"Even so, why choose me as your 'successor'? Why not another First? I'm barely a Raven…the youngest of our creed! How could I possibly—"

"Harlene, you know that leaders aren't made. They're born," Claire's voice was more fervent than Harlene had ever heard. "I would never make this choice just because you're my student. I know of everything you've accomplished in your reality plus the mistakes you have made. I listened and watched as you took responsibility for those mistakes and sought how to use them to make yourself better. You've grown from a naïve, narrow-minded child into a pragmatic and worldly young woman who does what she feels is right and makes no apologies for it," Claire smiled. "You've become aware of your special power too. And you've never been tempted to use it selfishly, even for well-deserved revenge. Despite lingering animosities, our creed will follow you if worst comes to worst."

Harlene didn't have the slightest clue what to say. Claire released her to give her space.

"I'm mortal and fallible, apprentice. And I'm going to have to let you go someday, one way or the other. Even if this won't be necessary, we're in a time of war. And you are a leader in it already. You need to find your feet as soon as you can."

Harlene nodded slowly. "If I'm completely honest, I pray to God it will never come to that," her gaze pierced her mentor's. "The last thing I want is to disappoint you. But I can't promise you this. If someone else in our creed can do better than me, and I'm sure they will, I'll let them."

"You're the only one who can make the choice, Harlene," Claire said calmly. "I would be far more disappointed if you did something against your better judgment. Like you always say, people can only do what they feel is right."

Harlene smiled. "You called me apprentice, you know. Not little apprentice."

"I think we both agree that you've outgrown that nickname however affectionate it is," Claire said. "You're not a child anymore, Harlene."

"I never really felt like one," was the quiet reply.

The news they received over the next few days held a bit of optimism but was still incredibly grim. Despite the riots they passed on the way home, it was reported that the military was effectively combating the CAA virtual thugs that were using viruses to wreck havoc. A lot of money had been stolen so far, a lot of lives ruined and a lot of people were left unemployed. Anger and chaos was currently reigning in America. President Stewart had requested assistance from the Prime Minister of Britain and the President of France. Some would be given access to the American Virtual Network and combat the CAA from their own countries while other would be shipped to the USA. They would give much-needed help with cleaning the streets and controlling the crowds as well as getting any injured bystanders medical treatment.

The existence of the Error Correctors, the realities and their roles in the current war were announced hours after the creed returned home. The incredulity and backlash that followed was nothing short of gargantuan. Harlene and the others watched silently on the viewscreen as the government was accused of manipulating the public and sneering derision that the people's lives were now in the hands of 'children who played in fairy lands'.

"Let's go down there someday and break all their limbs," Noelle said. "That'll show 'em how we play in fairy land."

Apart from the oppression, the Error Correctors were rapidly gaining a cult following. Several fans of the genres of the realities were going completely nuts that it was possible to visit the fantasy worlds they had obsessed over and wished with all their souls were real.

"Wonder if they'd change their minds after hearing our stories?" Harlene said when she saw a rapidly growing online petition to allow the 'true fans' access to the realities.

"If they're not as fucked up as we are," Jacob said. "They'd spend a few weeks in there and then run home to their mommies with piss drying on their legs."

Harlene could sort of understand the jealousy of the fans. She would be jealous too if she were them. But several people expressed their jealousy in far more extreme ways than online petitions.

"EDWARD CULLEN IS MINE YOU—" the next words coming out of an absolutely hysterical teenage girl were bleeped from the audience. "—NOT GOING TO TOUCH HIM! I'LL(bleep bleep)KILL ALL YOU(bleep bleep bleep-bleep)I'LL BURN YOU'RE(bleep-bleep)MOTHER'S BLANKETS!"

"Maybe we should ask the Founders to create a Twilight reality," Roan mused. "We could all access a part of it if we wanted. If we ever become really stressed out and want to kill someone…"

"What better way to vent than to skin Edward the Sparkly Faggot and Bella the Whiny Wet Pussy alive?" Jacob finished with a dreamy grin.

The new training modules were being prepared and would be ready for use within another week. More than the usual number of Error Correctors were being assigned to their realities since they would have to leave earlier to train. Harlene herself would be going into Star Wars tomorrow for the virtual time of one week. After she got out, she would spend a few days in the real world to train and then the process would repeat itself. She was satisfied with the arrangement. The events of Revenge of the Sith took place of a period of four months which was ample time to execute her newly altered plan. To keep her brain fresh and her anger channeled, she started rereading significant Star Wars novels like Shatterpoint, Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor, the novelization of Revenge of the Sith, Traitor, and the Clone Wars, Legacy and Knights of the Old Republic graphic novels. It was a very painful process and she found herself grinding her teeth and cracking her knuckles several times.

They're all real. I'm reading about real people. This isn't just fantasy.

The graphic novels were the worst. Several times she had to stop herself from raking her fingernails across various faces and imagining them writhing in unbearable agony while seeing other faces made her eyes burn with tears.

Patience. Patience. Patience.

She was nearly done with the fourth volume of the Legacy series when a loud pounding came from her door.

"It's open!" she called.

It was Claire, and she looked very suspicious.

"Harlene, have you ever created a separate bubble in your reality?"

Astonished at the question, Harlene could only say, "what?"

"Answer me!" Claire snapped.

"No, I haven't," Harlene said sharply. "Not now or ever."

Claire didn't look relieved. Quite the contrary she looked baffled.

"Come with me," she said shortly and turned on her heel. Harlene shoved her books aside and followed.

"Claire, is it the Virus Creed?" burst desperately from her mouth.

"No," Claire replied to Harlene's intense relief. "But I don't know how…"

"You said something about a separate bubble."

"Yes. One has manifested in Star Wars. We don't know if it's a glitch or what, but we've found no evidence that it was created by an outside source. The technicians have tried accessing it but all they get is a blank. They can't delete it either. The readings they're getting from it are quite…unstable."

Harlene sighed, exasperated. "It's one thing right after the other. I guess I'll go down there and investigate."

The sidelong glance that Claire shot her clearly said that she disapproved but couldn't think of a different alternative.

"We've never dealt with an unstable bubble before and we won't be able to watch you," her mentor said quietly. "I'll have your vital signs monitored the entire time."

Harlene sent a brief message to her friends before jacking into the interface. As her virtual body manifested she braced herself for an insane altered world and mutated freakish lifeforms.

Instead her nose was assaulted by ionized air and exotic chemicals.

She landed numbly on the roof of a tall building and stared in shock at the enormous factories and clouded sky before her.

"The Works?" she whispered aloud.

It was The Works. The collection of abandoned factories that Sidious used as hideaways and training areas for his apprentices. Harlene recovered herself and closed her eyes, reaching into the interface's power.

The landscape was definitely limited. Separate bubbles could be as large or small as the creator wanted. This bubble didn't encompass all of Coruscant. It covered parts of the city and cut off after several miles. Harlene tried to extend the bubble but couldn't.

Perplexed she contacted Claire. "I'm in."

"What have you found?"

"The Works."

"Come again?"

"The Works. You know. Sidious's haunted abandoned factory hideaway on Coruscant," she stared ahead of her. "The bubble covers part of the city too, but that's it. I can't extend it further."

"Do you sense anyone there?"

Harlene closed her eyes again, searching…searching…

"There's someone or something in the factory," she said. "I'm going to investigate."

She holstered her comm and teleported inside. Immediately the presence vanished from her senses.

"The hell…?" Harlene looked wildly at the machinery and glowing red lights around her. The place had a very cold, isolated feel to it that she never really noticed before. Not even when she made regular trips during The Phantom Menace. It made her want to leave as soon as possible. With a shiver she continued to walk, reaching out for the presence she had felt before.

(turn left, Error Corrector)

Harlene turned left into a very large, nearly barren room. The red lights broke through some of the shadows on the dark walls. Her head jerked toward the opposite doorway when her senses were flooded with the presence from before.

"Who's there?" she called out, summoning her sword. "Show yourself!"

A shadowy figure seemed to materialize ahead. Footsteps echoed off the walls. From the darkness emerged…

"Obi-Wan?" Harlene breathed.

It was Obi-Wan, complete with Jedi robes and beard. His face however was not wearing the usual calm, sanctimonious serene mask. Quite the contrary, his blue eyes were burning and hateful. Lines of anger tightened his mouth in a permanent grimace.

He froze solid when he saw her, eyes widening. The hatred on his face amplified one-hundred fold. He bared his teeth and ignited a red-bladed lightsaber.

"You," he hissed in a voice that didn't sound like Obi-Wan at all.

Maybe it was the instability of this bubble that caused such a dramatic change in this version of Obi-Wan. Harlene wasn't complaining. In fact she was brimming with glee.

"Me," she flashed him a grin and spread her arms. "What, you're not happy to see me?"

She thought she saw a flicker of confusion and suspicion pass his features but then they hardened into a perverse satisfaction. He crossed the distance between them in a burst of speed and swung at her. She ducked and leaped back raising her sword only to find it was the handle of a lightsaber.

What?

She didn't have time to contemplate how the interface had given her a lightsaber rather than her sword. At least it was a weapon. She ignited the crimson blade and blocked a brutal slash meant to remove her head. Obi-Wan then aimed a high kick at her chin which she pivoted to avoid.

This wasn't Obi-Wan or a copy of she soon realized as the battle drew on. The fighting style was far too aggressive and his entire being screamed hatred and bloody vengeance. Harlene was holding her own well enough, but she knew Obi-Wan wasn't this skilled or this brutal. Not naturally. She managed to land a kick to his stomach and tried to cut his legs from under him as he staggered, but he used the momentum to his advantage, flipping backward and landing safely several feet away. He raised his blade in a Juyo fashion and bared his teeth at her. The glow of his blade reflected red highlights in his yellow eyes.

Sith eyes.

So. This was Obi-Wan Kenobi on the dark sid…darkness of the Force. No matter. This thing still wore the face of Obi-Wan Kenobi. It would serve as a good substitute until she could punish the real one.

He lunged at her and she met her blade with his. She needed every ounce of skill she had to keep him at bay. Increasing her speed would give her an advantage but not enough to beat him. She let the adrenaline soak into her bloodstream and her vision to darken as her anger channeled itself. Killing him wasn't good enough. She would show him her power, and he would suffer.

Harlene jumped back after blocking a flurry of rapid cuts and swings. She landed in a crouched mode and thrust her hand out. Obi-Wan was hurled into the wall but not hard enough to break any bones. That would come in a moment. Harlene pinned him there and smirked as he grunted and struggled against her power. She held out her free hand and telekinetically seized his lightsaber. A second after it smacked her palm she closed her fingers around it. The crushed remains were thrown contemptuously at her enemy's feet.

Right fist outstretched, Harlene took her time approaching Obi-Wan. She drank in his fury, savoring it like fine wine. Her grin threatened to split her face when they were inches apart.

"And another one bites the dust," she whispered. "Well. Not yet." She raised her fist, intending to break his left forearm and froze when the air around him shimmered.

Harlene felt the blood drain from her face. Her raised arm now hung limp in the air. Her mouth was opened in a slackened gap when the face of Obi-Wan Kenobi changed into—

"…Maul?"

She was so stunned that she removed the telekinetic hold without thinking. Big mistake. She saw the rabid loathing on his tattooed face mix with savage triumph before a black-gloved fist rammed into her jaw. The world went black before her back hit the floor.

xXx

Brace yourself. You'll have a visitor soon.

Those were the only words the voice had spoken to him when he regained consciousness a third time. And it wasn't in a dream or in a black non-reality where he couldn't move.

Darth Maul had only thought about the dream he had just shared with Harlene for a brief moment before demanding of his mysterious foe/benefactor more answers. He wasn't surprised that the voice hadn't responded but that made it no less infuriating.

Upon gauging his surroundings he knew he was back in The Works. The Force had returned, but he couldn't sense anyone other than himself. To his disgust, he realized he had little option other than to roam around and see if the voice's words were correct.

Maul's hand went to his hip and he was mildly surprised to see a lightsaber there. It wasn't the double-bladed one, but it was Sith design. Perhaps his visitor would be an enemy.

As he walked, the feeling that he was not in the galaxy…or the universe he had been born in festered like a burning wound. He was in an alien environment that wore a mask whose construction was undoubtedly brought about by the power that had pulled him from the jaws of death. Questions roiled in his mind until he felt like igniting his blade and cutting a wall apart.

Why am I alive? Am I dead to my Master? Why can't I return to him if I am alive? Harlene, where are you?

The dream he had shared with her had provided no answers or direction. He had tried to take her from where she was not caring that the reality they had been in was a mere figment of their imaginations. Dream or reality, she was his and no one would touch her and live. But she had expressed no other recognition of him other than his name. Not even after she had come back to find him in that forest.

His hands grew warm as he remembered pressing her small body against him and the mild, yet glorious smell of her hair. She wasn't the Harlene he remembered but she was still Harlene. And she had repeated the words she had uttered when—

He stopped when realized he wasn't alone. The Force hadn't whispered to him. Rather it was a more distant detached feeling. But he knew he wasn't alone. Anticipation beat at him when he reached into the Force yet again and found nothing.

Was it Harlene?

Swiftly he moved through the halls and the feeling grew stronger. But his triumph

(joy)

melted into astonishment and fury when he saw not Harlene but a Jedi. And not just any Jedi.

Qui-Gon Jinn.

Had the owner of the voice brought him here too? No…NO! He had killed this Jedi scum. He had run his blade through his chest and heard his death rattle. No one had the right to steal that triumph from him!

The Jedi's unusual behavior had surprised him, especially the look in his eyes. It had held an almost mad sadism that was completely unbecoming of a Jedi. No matter. If the voice wanted to resurrect this Jedi, then it would find it had wasted valuable time. Maul had killed him once and he would do it again a thousand times over if need be. And the Jedi's lightsaber…he could redeem himself for that failure at least.

The battle had proved…confusing. He did not fight like Qui-Gon Jinn. Maul had committed this Jedi's fighting style to memory. And his lightsaber wasn't green but red. Maul had pushed such thoughts from his mind and focused on his enemy's demise.

Then the Jedi had managed to throw him and pin him down telekinetically. Maul should have known then. Should have known the moment he felt the power that had pinned him down many times before. Should have known after realizing this Jedi had no Force signature.

Should have known when his name was whispered from the Jedi's lips in utter incredulity.

But she had still worn the face of Qui-Gon Jinn. He had punched her in the jaw and had been about to break her neck in one blow when the air shimmered around her.

Like a lot of things, precision had been ingrained in him since before he could walk. His descending hand had screeched to a grinding halt when the mirage melted away.

Harlene.

For the longest moment he just stared. Her head lolled to the side as he held her roughly by the front of her jumpsuit. A dark bruise was forming on her jaw. Recovering, Maul slid an arm behind her back and the other behind her thighs, lifting her from the ground. He gently tilted her upper body forward so her head rested against his shoulder.

Solid. Real. It was her. And she had recognized him. Just as he recognized her.

But only after the illusions around them had vanished.

"What game are you playing?" he growled into the silence around him. "Answer me!"

Relax. It was just to add a bit of drama. Aren't you curious as to who she saw you as?

Truthfully he was. There had been such hatred on her face. Now that he knew he had been fighting Harlene all along, her reactions pleased him greatly. The Jedi had not corrupted her as he had feared.

Give her a second to wake up. She'll tell you what you want to know. But don't tell her about me. If you try, you won't be able to speak.

The voice went silent after that. A faint moan caused Maul to look down. Harlene's lids fluttered open.

"What…?"

Maul set her on her feet when he saw she was fully conscious but kept a hold on her when she swayed.

"Don't make sudden movements," he told her. "Can you heal yourself?"

In response her bruise faded into pure whiteness. Her shoulders were warm beneath his touch and her scent was stronger than before. He wanted to smell her hair but resisted.

Blinking, she looked up and her eyes went wide.

"Am I dreaming again?"

The corners of his mouth curled. "No. You are not."

He scowled when she back away from him, but saw it was not out of discomfort to their proximity. She looked at her hands, touched her face and dug her nails into her palms. When she looked up again her eyes were filled with wonder.

"I'm not dreaming. But I was before. You were in it. I was a little girl and back…home…" she trailed off looking away.

Maul came up to her again but didn't touch her. Instead he stared at her.

"You are older," he said.

It was true and he took the time to fully notice it. This was not the eleven-year-old child he had bid farewell to before battling the Jedi. Her black clothing was the same. So were her hair, skin and eyes. But her face had lost the roundness of youth. In place were strong, curved cheekbones and a mature jaw. She was a lot taller too. Before she had barely come up to his neck. Now he estimated he had six centimeters on her at the most. The skintight jumpsuit outlined female curves that had not been there before. Her hands were still small but corded with new visible strength.

Not a little girl. Probably not a grown woman either but still—

"Can't say the same for you." She interrupted his observations.

Her voice was more mature too. Her eyes sharper and more intense. Her smile holding more confidence. He drank in every new detail and savored them all.

She was staring at him too. Perhaps she was still struggling to comprehend how he could be alive and whole after seeing his death with her own eyes.

"How?" she whispered, breaking the silence. "You died. Obi-Wan Kenobi cut you in half."

Of course she would know the details but hearing her speak them out loud caused a surge of anger in his blood. He still carried the black weight of his failure and humiliation in his stomach. Her words made it grow heavier.

"I do not know," he said as evenly as he could. He wouldn't let the voice shame him further. "I should have died, but all I know is that I did not. I awoke here and found you while I was searching for answers. But you appeared differently. I saw you as Qui-Gon Jinn."

She gave a short laugh. "Well, that explains the look on your face."

"And who did you see me as?" he prompted curtly.

Her smile faded. After a pause she replied, "Maybe I'll tell you someday."

He bared his teeth at her. She only laughed again.

"Still think that evil look is going to intimidate me, eh?"

"Why are you here?" he demanded. "Do you know where we are?"

"We're in a separate section of the dimension you're from. We call them 'bubbles' and they're known to manifest from time to time in the other dimensions. But this is the first time this particular dimension has spawned one. My superiors couldn't access it so they sent me to investigate personally."

Not spawned. Created. He tried to tell her but his throat froze.

"Maul, are you all right?"

Stop it he snarled inwardly. I will not speak of you to her.

His throat muscles relaxed and he took a moment to rage inwardly before speaking. "How much time has passed? Are the Jedi destroyed? Has my Master succeeded?"

"Not yet to the last question," she responded and sighed. "I'll give you an update. More than twelve years have passed in your dimension—"

"Start from the beginning. What happened after I died?"

Her lips pursed at the interruption but she complied. "Naboo was freed from the Trade Federation's occupation."

"Impossible," he snapped. "My Master could not have failed."

"I never said he failed. Do you know what his true plan was for Naboo? Apart from discrediting Valorum and putting a puppet Chancellor in place?" he didn't answer so she continued. "Sidious wanted the Trade Federation ruined also. Or at least ruined enough so they couldn't do official business in the Outer Rim. The Republic had to come in and take over trade there which rustled a lot of feathers. My guess is that Sidious used his reach to make sure a war wouldn't start between the Republic and the Outer Rim, but the Outer Rim has many, many connections to the Republic. And many planets in the Republic didn't trust the government anymore, thinking it hopelessly corrupt—"

"—which it is—"

"Yes, Maul, I know," she said, exasperated. "I know it's hopelessly corrupt. I knew a long time ago. But do you want to gloat about being right now, or do you want me to continue?"

She was glaring at him. Maul savored his triumph and was severely tempted to ask when she decided to open her eyes but there was no point in gloating if she had learned from her mistakes. He would only alienate her if he did. But they would discuss it later.

"Continue please," he said.

He was rewarded with a mildly surprised look from her before she complied. "Anyway his goal was to divide the Republic. Eight years after Naboo, many star systems declared independence from the Republic. They formed a separatist movement. The leaders of the Separatists consisted of greedy sniveling money-grubbing scum that Sidious could easily control. Their only goal was to profit from the war, but despite less than admirable motivations, they controlled powerful manufacturing companies and commerce guilds. A massive droid army was constructed to take over the Republic by force and instill a new government. But the Republic had a secret army of clone soldiers that could successfully combat the Separatists. Because of that, the war that's been waging for two and a half years has been dubbed the Clone Wars."

She let that sink in. Maul said, "Did my Master know about this clone army of the Republic's?"

"Yes. In fact he had the clones modified to suit his plans. The Jedi Knights were enlisted as generals in the Grand Army of the Republic. Once Sidious decides the war has gone on long enough, he'll have the clones turn on their generals and kill them."

"There has to be more," Maul said sharply. "Lord Sidious would not put an army of non-Force sensitive soldiers against the entire Jedi Order, no matter how great their numbers."

She broke his gaze. "No he wouldn't."

"What is it?" frustration mounting, he grabbed her shoulders. "Tell me now."

When she looked at him again her eyes were pained. "You may be alive here…but you're dead to Sidious. He replaced you with an elderly Jedi Master named Dooku after Naboo. Dooku is the natural Count of Serenno making him one of the wealthiest beings in the galaxy. He's also a capable leader and politician, which is why Sidious chose him as not only his apprentice but the official leader of the Separatists. He's personally persuaded more than a few star systems to join the Confederacy," Harlene suddenly smiled but without mirth. "But he's only a tool. Sidious's real goal is an incredibly powerful young Knight named Anakin Skywalker. The Jedi believe Anakin to be the Chosen One of prophecy who will bring balance to the Force. But Sidious has a strong hold on him. His influence will make Anakin sever all ties with the Jedi and join the Sith. That's who will lead the Great Jedi Purge."

Everything Harlene had said suddenly melted into that last sentence.

That's who will lead the Great Jedi Purge.

Maul released her and turned away as a torrent of emotions flooded his system with such intensity it was a physical pain.

You will not destroy the Jedi echoed in his mind with the voice of a taunting foe. Your right…your dream is now another's. Someone more powerful and more worthy. This Anakin Skywalker's blade will taste the blood of the Jedi. His ears will hear their screams. His eyes will see their despair. He will kneel at Lord Sidious's feet before the crushed Temple and proclaim his victory. It is this Skywalker who will feel Lord Sidious's hand on his brow and bask in the words, "You have succeeded. I am pleased."

Maul clenched his teeth until they hurt, until his jaw groaned under the pressure. He wanted to ignite his blade, to kill something, anything…

Everything he worked for, everything he trained for, all he had suffered, Sidious's constant whispers that it was his destiny to destroy the Jedi, whispers that had formulated into that sweet, sweet dream-

Gone. Stolen.

The injustice seared his insides like molten lava.

"Maul…?" a hand touched his arm.

He became aware of a different fire. A fire that made him feel ill rather than powerful, and it originated from the weight in his gut.

His dream to destroy the Jedi was gone…and his failure on Naboo was to blame. Vaguely he remembered that when the Padawan leaped out of the pit, he had been prepared to strike but something had stopped him. Had it been a moment of weakness? Had his mind punished him for gloating over the Padawan instead of killing him right away?

Yes. That must have been it. Lord Sidious had not made any mistakes in his training. Because of that moment of weakness he was now trapped in a bubble, and would be dead if not for an unknown powerful being. And because of the Rule of Two, Lord Sidious had had no choice but to replace him.

"I failed," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "And this is the price I pay."

"You're alive," Harlene said. "And I'm glad that you are. Does that count for anything? I never thought I'd see you again."

Maul looked at her. Her eyes still held sadness but also joy. His hand came up to touch her hair.

"When I faced the Jedi, I would be the most formidable warrior in the galaxy," his thumb feathered once over her cheek. "Forgive me."

"For what?"

"I promised Jinn's lightsaber to you. I failed to keep that promise."

Her eyes narrowed. "I never wanted his lightsaber. You know that."

So she still admired the Jedi. It was yet another dose of salt on his wounds. He scowled at her.

"You wanted me to win. You said so before I left."

"'May the Force be with you' is not synonymous to 'I want you to win', Maul," her voice was hard. "I knew there was a chance you wouldn't come back. I didn't want Qui-Gon to die, but I didn't want you to die either. That's why I said it."

His rage was starting to channel itself again. So was his fear. He was dead to Sidious. The Jedi would be wiped out by another; Sidious's new apprentice. And the only link to his life, the only ally he had left was right in front of him.

You did want me to win. You may still admire the Jedi, but they haven't taken you. You're glad I'm back. You promised you would stay. You're still mine.

"I don't blame you for Qui-Gon's death," she continued. "And I want you to know that what I said to you stands. I can't return you to Sidious, but I can come back here…as often as I want."

Silently basking in the hidden meaning behind that, he came up to her and cupped her face.

"You would have waited, had I won. You would have met me in the Queen's chambers after I killed the Jedi."

"Yes. I would have."

He pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair, then her neck. She was warmer than he remembered. He could feel her pulse beating beneath his nose and lips. Her new scent was more intoxicating than he could have ever imagined. For a long moment he lost himself in her, everything that she was.

Everything you are, Harlene…everything is mine…

Her arms embracing him back completed his victory. They would be together forever. And someday she would accept she was his and say it.

He pulled away a bit when she shifted. Her downcast face wore a troubled expression.

"What is it?"

"How could we have shared the same dream?" she shook her head. "That's…that's impossible…"

"This is from the girl who can travel to different dimensions at her pleasure?" he asked, amused.

"Maybe I'm developing a psychic connection to this dimension," she said. "Even if I can't feel it. Why would I dream of my past and you at the same time?"

Maul was suddenly very angry at the owner of the voice. If they were both being toyed with, it had no right to reveal itself to Maul but keep Harlene in the dark.

That being…it could do whatever it wanted to her and she wouldn't know who was responsible. She would have no warning.

Don't worry. I mean her no harm.

Why should I believe you?

Because she's the reason I brought you back.

You deceived us both for the sake of drama as you put it.

The present intention was drama but later intentions you'll have to wait to know.

I detest you.

Look, just shut up for now and enjoy your moment with Harlene. She's going to tell you she has to go in 6.786 seconds.

What?

The voice was silent, but a chiming emitted from Harlene's comm. She lifted it to her mouth and said, "I'll be back soon," before meeting his eyes and saying, "Maul I have to go for now."

He didn't bother wondering if the being's time-guess had been accurate or not. "Why so soon?" he demanded.

"My superiors want a personal report on what I've found. They've noticed that the fabric of time and space in this bubble is…unstable. That's why we appeared as different people. Maybe they can stabilize it before something worse happens."

By 'worse' he knew she meant the bubble could collapse with him in it. She was worried for him and it satisfied him enough to let her go without further protest.

"I'll be back in a few days at the most," she said. "Maul…promise me that you won't go near the ends of the bubble. The energy that's keeping it together could be the cause of its instability."

Inwardly he smiled.

"Very well."

She squeezed his arm gently, smiled, and backed away from him.

"See you later."

Maul's face twisted in a scowl when she disappeared.

"What do you want with her?" he grated out.

A great destiny awaits her. But I don't need to tell you that, do I?

Maul had known Harlene would be great. He had told her as much. And seeing that vision of her, that goddess who could command the dark itself told him that she would be great beyond his imagining.

"If you seek to guide her, then why reveal yourself to me and not her?"

She can't know of me yet. Nor can her creed or her people. The only way I could swear her to secrecy is to forcefully control her. I can't tell her what awaits her, and her loyalty to her people is boundless.

That was supposed to mollify him? His irritation grew to anger.

"I may not be able to harm you, but if you try to manipulate or control her, I will find a way to inform her of your existence."

Yeah, I know you're stubborn as hell. And you're very protective of Harlene. More protective and affection than anyone I've ever seen who shuns compassions so. Tell me, how exactly do you view her?

Against his will, Maul's mind flashed to the warm scent of Harlene's hair. The way she felt in his arms. The ruthless yet graceful way she had crossed blades with him.

(her smile, never forget her smile)

Maul's fist clenched.

"She is mine."

Oh, how priceless her reaction would be if you said that to her face. Then again, she knows damn well how far your possessiveness goes. I can practically hear her say "I know I'm not yours and that's good enough for me. You can think whatever the fuck you want".

The voice laughed when he bared his teeth.

Don't pretend you're not captivated by that fiery spirit. You never would have wanted her if she hadn't possessed it.

"Regardless, she is mine."

You're more mature than before. But you're still living in Sith reality. After a pause the voice said, Harlene's not ready for her destiny. She's grown up very well since you last saw her, but she's not there yet. She needs more if she hopes to survive.

Something trickled in his veins. Fear.

"What will she face?" he asked in a low voice.

Great evil. Indescribable agony and loss. Things that would make the strongest of beings insane.

Maul wouldn't feel fear at this normally. If Harlene were to face brutal trials, he would accept them so long as they made her stronger and fed her hatred. But if they killed her or made her insane…

He shook his fear away at stared resolutely ahead of him.

"She will survive," he stated curtly. "There is nothing she cannot survive. And she will become what you showed me before my death."

Destiny is not set in stone, boy. There are forces at work greater than me, but all in all, destiny is dependent on the choices of the individual.

"I will aid her. I will make certain she makes the right choices."

A low, half mocking, half pitying laugh.

Stubborn, arrogant boy.

xXx

"I don't know why you all are so surprised. I mean, it makes perfect sense," Jacob said that night in a lounge room after Harlene had returned and explained who and what she had found. "Think about it. Maul's death was a total contrivance in the movie. There's no way in fucking hell he could have just stood there and stared while Obi-Wan bisected him. Like Confused Matthew said in those reviews I showed you 'when the plot needs the characters to be careless and stupid, they're careless and stupid'. The interface must have sensed it somehow and decided to correct it." He frowned. "Hey, maybe it can fix itself now and pretends to have errors just so it can make us look like assholes."

"Yeah, but remember I killed him in the reality, not Obi-Wan," Harlene said, ignoring the lame joke.

"Obi-Wan was meant to kill him not you," Noelle said. "That's what was planted in the interface."

"What did Dr. Anderson say about your dreams?" Roan asked. "Have you developed some kind of bond with the reality or the bubble?"

"Or Maul," Jacob added with a smirk.

"Scans came out normal," Harlene said. "The technicians checked the bubble out as best they could, but they still can't access it. It's still unstable, but not in a way that could make it collapse at any second. Thank God."

"So, what are you gonna do?" Roan asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Maul's back, he's free from Sidious, you're the only one he has access to—I don't need to draw you a map."

Harlene didn't shift, but she couldn't quite meet Roan's eyes when she replied, "I don't want to think about that now."

"Yeah, leave her alone Roan," Jacob raised his comm to the ceiling and activated a 2D hologram of the game pong. "We've all got enough on our plates, and Harlene has that plus three psychotic emotional basket-cases who are dependent on her for what little mental stability that they have."

"Two," Harlene said dully. "Kar isn't an emotional basket-case. And he can survive alone, he just doesn't want to."

"Precisely my point," Jacob's flicked his wrist sharply to the left to block a tricky shot. "You're soon gonna have a third. Enjoy your reprieve while it lasts."

Harlene had thought her buzzing mind would be responsible for another sleepless night, but to her relief she was wrong. She went through her nightly routine like an automaton, but by the time she was showered and dressed for bed, all she wanted was to collapse on it and let sleep take her. Before she did so, she went over to her bookshelf. All of the ones she owned were programmed as ebooks into her comm, but she still loved the old style and never wanted to give it up. Reaching her hand out, she pulled Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter from it and stared at the face on the cover.

She had spoken to him…touched him mere hours ago. He wasn't dead. He was in that bubble, waiting for her to return.

"So you're back," she whispered to the picture in front of her eyes. "What do I do with you now?"

Someone knocked at her door. She put the book back before biding her visitor entrance.

"Hey," Claire smiled as she stepped inside. "Just wanted to say goodnight and to see if you were all right."

Harlene laughed. "Claire, I don't know what the hell I am right now. But I want to go back to my reality. I have friends to see, things to take, scores to settle, heads to cut off…"

She laid down on her bed. Claire came closer.

"You haven't told me yet. Do you think I did the right thing by keeping information from you?"

"You kept specific details from me rather than information," Harlene said bitterly. "I had almost everything I needed once I saw Episodes I and II."

"What about Anakin?"

Harlene's eyes grew warm. "It comes down to the same thing. Episodes I and II were enough to tell me what the Jedi really were. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out how a child raised by people like them would turn out," she let out a long breath. "I can only judge him to an extent. It's not my right to punish him."

"I'm so proud of you, Harlene."

"I know. Claire…" she looked up at her mentor. "I can see why you kept details from me, and I understand. I know you did the right thing," she smiled. "You put a lot of effort into this particular lesson. I'm glad I trusted you. Thanks for doing your best to help me."

"Of course," Claire sat on the bed and touched Harlene's face, a tender smile on her lips. "You're my precious student, Harlene. How could I not?"

Harlene stared at her, and a smile slowly formed on her own mouth. She scooted over to Claire and curled her upper body against her thigh. Claire's hand stroked her hair and back.

"You look like her."

"What?"

Harlene looked up at her mentor sleepily. "My mom," she whispered softly. "You look like her. She had skin like mine. But she had golden brown eyes like you. She had red hair, like you," her face nuzzled against the warmth in front of her, her eyes closing. "She was beautiful. Like you."

Claire's hand stilled for a brief moment but Harlene didn't notice through the peace and security lulling her to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

 

" **How did she take it?"**

" **Better than I expected. In the end she'll do what she feels is right."**

" **This may fail. The President could incarcerate you both."**

" **My contingency plan is not my best work, I'll admit. But if we play our cards right it won't fail."**

" **Tell them I've heard vague rumors that sectors R67 through B78 are going to be attacked. When they increase security there, it won't take long for reinforcements to arrive once sector G92 is attacked."**

" **How's that cure coming along?"**

" **Sometimes the trials take awhile before visible results are available. What with everything else you're having me do I can only watch the recordings when I'm off duty."**

" **Did you ask Madison to record them, or does she record them on her own?"**

"… **I guess I can understand why you would ask that. She's not exactly the most meticulous of individuals. But she is making the records on her own."**

" **So it will be awhile?"**

" **I'm afraid so."**

" **I guess I can live with it. But what I can't live with is the growing threat of Tabula Rasa."**

" **Ah, yes. The fruits of my treasure hunt that you possessed all along. You know you could have saved us both a lot of trouble."**

" **How would you have learned?"**

" **Oh, whatever. I won't argue with you about this anymore."**

" **I'll concede that we can't deal with Tabula Rasa now. If we made a full assault we would lose half our troops, and we need them now. But we can still be a festering thorn in Senator Marshall's side."**

" **Despite what they're hiding, they're not like the Alliance. They need to skulk in the darkness until an opportunity presents itself."**

" **Then we'll make sure that opportunity never comes to pass. If it does, we'll destroy it before they can make use of it."**

" **Speaking of destroy, has your apprentice told you how she's going to top genocide?"**

" **Plans, at least long thought-out ones are useless here. She's going to keep her eyes open and strike when she feels she should. Oh, by the way, Maul's back."**

" **Come again?"**

" **Maul. Darth Maul. He's appeared in a bubble that no one has created. It seems the interface spawned it all on its own. Maul is back, and he's the same. He remembers Harlene and everything about his previous life."**

" **You look disappointed."**

" **I am. I can't access the bubble. I'll have to rely on Harlene to tell me what's going on in there. The bubble is unstable. Not fatally, but the atmosphere could shift with no warning."**

" **So long as the safety programming functions just find, I don't think you'll have anything to worry about."**

" **Yet I can't help but be disappointed. To see them interact again…to see their relationship grow…would give me great insight."**

" **I've got a pretty good idea how it's gonna turn out. But I'll wait for now."**

**xXx**

The tension in Coruscant's atmosphere wasn't livid, even after over two years of war. Even after a few terrorist bombs. Harlene didn't blame the populace for wanting to live as normal lives as possible even in the yoke of such conflict. But these people…they were too carefree. They thought themselves so protected, so untouchable. Not their fault of course, given where they lived. But Harlene wasn't ashamed of the disgust she felt as she stared at some of them.

Cloaked and perched on a building, she watched customers bustle and talk outside a strip mall. They laughed, they talked, they played with their children. They were completely oblivious of what would happen in a few short hours.

Without even thinking, Harlene began to sing.

_Come gather 'round people wherever you roam_

_And admit that the waters around you have grown_

_And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bone_

_If your time to you is worth savin'_

_Then you'd better start swimmin' or you'll sink like a stone_

_For the times they are a-changin'_

It wasn't just their blind faith in Coruscant, but in the Republic. In Palpatine. Harlene knew that the fate of the Republic could have been America's all those decades ago if it were weaker. There was no shame in the Republic dying. It needed to die. But it would not die with dignity.

xXx

The plan had been simple: Lord Tyranus would lead Skywalker and Kenobi on a wild goose chase while Grievous would be free to unleash his forces upon Coruscant. In all the distraction and chaos, the General would slip inside the city, snatch Chancellor Palpatine and make a quick getaway with the best hostage the Confederacy could ever hope for.

Darth Sidious smiled as he took a careful sip of tea from his cup. He had revealed the rest of his official plan to Lord Tyranus mere days ago. That once Skywalker and Kenobi had battled through his forces like the glistening, flawless celebrities that they were and encountered a shaken yet brave Chancellor Palpatine bound to a chair in the General's Quarters, Lord Tyranus would engage them both. Kenobi would die by his hand, and Skywalker in turn would call upon the dark side had been unknowingly embracing for years, defeat Tyranus, capture him and return to the Republic and the Jedi Order as the greatest hero in galactic history. His grief over the death of his best friend would sever whatever loyalties he held to the Jedi, open his eyes to the corrupt mess the Republic had become, and join Lord Sidious and Tyranus as a Sith apprentice. The three of them would create a new galactic order as well as a new order of Sith.

At least that was the official plan.

The unofficial one was somewhat…different.

Sidious opened his eyes when he felt a tremor of fear in the Force. A fear that was rapidly progressing to panic. And it was coming from miles away.

"And so it ends," he whispered.

xXx

Harlene's eyes narrowed when she saw her most hated  _Star Wars_  character outside the Senate building. There had been many close calls in the years of the Clone Wars. Close calls involving her leaping from the shadows, sinking her fingers into Oobadooba's shoulders and sending twenty-thousand volts through her system.

Oobadooba. What a clever parody name. She had already thanked Jacob for showing her those YouTube Prequel reviews done by confusedmatthew. Though they had made her deeply ashamed of herself for not seeing what had been in front of her face for years, it was very good to know that Lucas didn't have to tell his audience how he really intended his plots/characters to be. Common sense was more than enough. People just needed to open their eyes.

The politicians were starting to panic. Harlene saw Oobadooba conversing urgently with Bail Organa and began to sing again.

_Come Senators, Congressman, please heed the call_

_Don't stand in the doorway, don't block up the hall_

_For he that gets hurt will be he who has stalled_

_The battle outside ragin'_

Harlene turned her head to the left and heard distant crashes, explosions and screams.

_Will soon shake your windows and rattle your walls_

_For the times' they are a-changin'_

xXx

" _Remember what I taught you, General. If you are to succeed in combat against the best of the Jedi, you must have fear, surprise and intimidation on your side. But if any one element is lacking, it would be best for you to retreat. You must break them before you engage them. Only then will you ensure victory and have your trophy."_

Grievous found it incredibly amusing and insulting that his enemies dared to think that he sometimes fled his battles due to cowardice. Even for him, it was difficult to believe beings were capable of such idiocy. Him? A coward? We're they blind? Had they not seen him take on six Jedi at a time? Ten? Had they not seen him slaughter them as if they were nothing? Had he not led countless troops into victory against planets with supposedly impregnable security? Had he not outwitted the Jedi into defending half of Coruscant while he slipped inside and personally abducted the Supreme Chancellor!?

It was beyond insulting, but he had no desire to have the respect of idiots and fools so he never bothered to correct them. He merely squashed them beneath his metals claws and continued to hold Count Dooku's greatest lesson to heart. He had surprised the four Jedi guards assigned to the Supreme Chancellor. They did not expect him to be waiting in the Chancellor's very safe house. He had intimated them during their duel when he revealed his second pair of lightsaber-wielding arms. And the fear had all but brimmed in their eyes when they saw their doom.

Grievous stood erect and surveyed the four Jedi corpses. They had fought with all they had, but they weren't worthy enough opponents for him to take their lightsabers. Instead he approached the figure of Chancellor Palpatine standing in the shadows.

"You're  _mine,_  old man."

Palpatine merely narrowed his eyes coldly. "I'm not afraid of you. You wouldn't dare harm the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic," a faint smile touched his mouth. "Whatever would your  _Master_  say?"

Grievous normally didn't take any particular joy in slaughtering helpless sentients, but only the orders of Dooku and Lord Sidious prevented him from tearing the Chancellor's wrinkled mouth from his even more wrinkled face. He grabbed him by the front of his robes and hoisted him in the air.

"You're lucky they want you alive."

Rapidly approaching footsteps sounded in the distance. Grievous turned and his spirits lifted to see the Togruta Master Shaak Ti appear in the doorway, panting. She gasped at the sight of her dead brethren and cried out the Chancellor's name.

Grievous could have taken her along with the other Jedi guards, but for his own amusement he had several of his Magna Guards distract her while he dealt with her comrades. Only when they pulled back did she realize her grave mistake.

"Shaak Ti, my dear," Palpatine's voice was mild even as Grievous still held him in a threatening position. "You've come to rescue me."

Grievous was pleased to see the Jedi's face contort with anger as she lunged at him, but the joke he played on her hadn't been solely for laughs. Before her blade could make contact, he grabbed her wrist and then her throat.

"You're tired, Jedi," he mused thoughtfully. "Understandable. Not many members of your kind can take on twenty of my Magna Guards and live, even if their intention was merely to distract," he ignored her struggles and plucked her lightsaber from her fist, putting it in a holder on his lower body amid his other trophies. "You won't be needing this," he raised his free hand. Shaak Ti's black eyes widened at the sight of electro cords worming their way out of Grievous's wrist. "I've got something else for you."

She groaned when they made contact with her body. The voltage setting, while quite painful, wasn't lethal. Once she was trussed up like a cooked Galthrin bird, Grievous left her hanging on the wall. He took a moment to survey his work.

"Mercy…General?" her eyelids were fluttering. "That's…unbecoming…of a creature with your taste for blood…"

Grievous scowled and actually considered correcting her. She was a worthy opponent and wasn't to blame for her fatigue. Had she been at her peak she would have given him one of the best duels he ever had. But instead he told her the other reason she was being spared.

"Are you letting your exhaustion distort your sense of reality?" he said. "All Jedi will die eventually, but you will not die today. You are now my messenger. You will inform your fellow Council members of their failure once they find you."

Activating the comm on his wrist, Grievous summoned his Magna Guards and marched from the Chancellor's sanctuary. When they were outside he set Palpatine down and bound his arms behind his back.

"Your transport awaits, Chancellor," Grievous said as said transport descended in front of them. Palpatine stared at it stonily but didn't protest as he was led aboard.

"General Grievous!"

Grievous turned around and saw Jedi Master Mace Windu rushing toward him.

"So, only now do you realize your mistake," he activated his blade but Windu did not unsheathe his own. Instead he raised his arms and brought his fists together.

Pain exploded in Grievous's gutsack as his metal exoskeleton was partially crushed by the Force-blow. Grievous coughed, gagged and staggered inside the ship. Wheezing, he clutched his chest and snarled at the pilot, "Get us out of here!"

xXx

After spending a few hours correcting errors during the Battle of Coruscant, Harlene teleported to Grievous's flagship. Thanks to her status as the general's 'trusted ally' she didn't have to cloak herself whenever she wandered the halls of any of his ships or residences. In fact, the Magna Guards and several droids stood at attention whenever she made her presence known and some even asked if she had orders for them. To this day it still made her want to laugh and beat Count Dooku to a bloody pulp.

She found Grievous on her way to the General's Quarters. As usual he was escorted by his Magna Guards but this time he was accompanied by Chancellor Palpatine who walked, despite his bound arms and new status as prisoner, with his back flawlessly straight and his face a stone-cold mask.

Harlene still hadn't revealed to him that she knew he was Darth Sidious. Oh, he suspected of course. He wouldn't be Darth Sidious if he didn't. But unlike his apprentices, she hadn't interacted with him enough for him to get a deep insight into her personality. He suspected, but he was doubtful. After all, what did she have to gain by pretending that she didn't know? Nothing, right?

Except to get an edge in a game she would play with him once she decided the time was right.

Harlene waited until they were in the General's Quarters and Grievous had secured the 'prisoner' to a chair before making her presence known.

Grievous gave a hacking cough before speaking. "I hope you enjoy your stay, Chancellor. Count Dooku may arrive from time to time to keep you company, but I wouldn't bet on it. And I doubt you'll be lonely when the whispers of your failures as leader of the Republic echo in your mind. Ah," Grievous turned around when Harlene emerged from the shadows. "Come closer, my ally."

She obeyed and the General put on claw-like hand on her shoulder and gestured to Palpatine with the other. "Look. Chancellor Palpatine is now our captive and the entire Republic knows it. They are without their beacon of hope. Do you know what that means?" Grievous raised his hand and clenched it. "Their spirit will crumble into dust. We are victorious."

"I am very, very disappointed in you, Harlene," Palpatine's face was the perfect picture of a sad grandfather. "I do not know you very well, but I thought you held loyalty and love for the Republic, for the Jedi.  _Anakin,"_  he shook his head. "What would Anakin say, Harlene? He speaks of you all the time and the way he does so…I think you mean more to him than even Obi-Wan Kenobi. If he finds out of this it would break him."

Harlene's blood ran cold. She had made a mistake. Palpatine could tell Anakin about this, could present him with proof and…

…no. No. It was just a mind game. Even if he did present proof, Harlene could say, truthfully that she had been ordered to interact with Grievous and gain his trust. Anakin would believe her. He would believe anything she told him.

So she said nothing at all. Palpatine couldn't incriminate her if she didn't speak.

"Do you truly think you mean something to him, Harlene? You have seen what he has done. He is not capable of any form of sentient compassion. I did not think you would be capable of such delusion, such stupidity—"

Grievous grabbed him by the neck and slammed him into the back of his chair.

"Watch your mouth, old man," the cyborg hissed. "I was ordered not to kill you, but that doesn't mean I can't give you a few scars—"

"General," Harlene put a hand on his arm. "Don't. I know Dooku ordered you not to cause any harm whatsoever. You know what he'll do to you if you disobey him."

The metal beneath her hand vibrated with the growls of rage resonating in his voice box. Reluctantly he released Palpatine and stepped back.

"Come," he snapped at Harlene. "I must personally report to Count Dooku." He coughed twice.

"If I may, General," she replied. "I would like to have a few words with the Chancellor."

Grievous's yellow eyes took a satisfied glint. He obviously thought she would hurt Palpatine. He may have been given orders not to do any damage, but Harlene followed no authority here.

"Very well," he sauntered away coughing again. "Meet me in my chambers later."

Once they were alone, Harlene waved a hand in various directions.

"What are you doing?" Palpatine asked, confused.

She waved her hand a final time before replying, "I disabled all microphones and recording devices."

Palpatine frowned curiously as she turned to face him. "Obi-Wan and Anakin are coming, Chancellor. You'll be free very soon."

"But you—"

"I was ordered to interact with Grievous and gain his trust. But I hold no loyalty to the Confederacy."

Palpatine blinked, shocked. Then his shoulders sagged with relief and he smiled. "I am very glad. Forgive me, but I never believed General Grievous to be capable of such trust save to those he serves. He seems to have genuine affection for you."

"He does, but don't be fooled. He was far more indignant of his own behalf rather than mine. Whatever love he has for me is far overshadowed by the love he has for himself."

"I can imagine," Palpatine sighed. "I must say how relieved I am again, Harlene. You know how much young Anakin means to me. It breaks my heart to even imagine his devastation of your betrayal."

Harlene smiled. "I would never betray Anakin, Chancellor. I love him more than I love my own life," she gave his arm a comforting squeeze. "I have to go now, but don't worry. Help is on the way."

Palpatine smiled back. "I know it is."

Once she was away, Harlene viciously wiped her hand on her jumpsuit but her disgust faded to satisfaction.

_If you want me to play your games, Sidious, I'll make you play mine._

xXx

Count Dooku arose from a short meditation feeling refreshed and renewed. He didn't really need it. Skywalker and Kenobi had been, as usual, completely predictable. He had led them into the perfect Jedi trap which included the two most necessary aspects: irresistible bait(himself of course) and a detachment of mind(the true goal being to make certain said Jedi were merely occupied for a while so they could not interfere with the trappers real plans). They had fallen for it, and now Dooku's Master would set in motion the part of the plan he had been waiting for years to be executed.

The door chimed and he opened it to find Harlene standing there.

"Hello," he greeted warmly.

She smiled very faintly in response and he stood aside to let her in.

"I'm afraid I do not have time for our usual tea and discussion. My Master's plans, the plans of the Sith are about to come to fruition."

"Yeah. You'll kill Obi-Wan which will send Anakin to the dark side and you, him and Sidious will take over the Republic, make it into an empire and begin recruiting children and various Jedi for the new Sith Order."

"You are forgetting the destruction of the Jedi Order. But then again," he smiled knowingly. "It is better to save the best for last."

She didn't answer. Her back was turned to him and she was staring at the viewport. Other beings would interpret this as rudeness. But Dooku knew better. He came up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I am very pleased that your eyes have been opened. You now know of the corruption of the Republic, of the Jedi. You know what must be done."

She reached up and covered his hand with hers.

"All you've done for me has been only for you," her tone was soft. "I've never deluded myself about our relationship. But I know I wouldn't be the person I am now if not for you. So for everything you've done for me, I thank you."

Dooku rounded around her and gently cupped her chin, smiling down at her, at the intelligence and wisdom in her eyes. She had grown up so much since they first met. He also for the first time took a moment to admire her physical appearance. He had noticed before of course, but now he fully acknowledged in it a beauty that would be unsurpassed in a few short years and would only increase as time went by.

But it wouldn't be natural or delicate. It wouldn't even be flawless.

It would be harsh, exotic and dark. And some beings wouldn't even notice it at first. They would see only the green veins that shone through her skin, the intensity of her eyes, the silver gleam in her black hair that implied premature aging.

But they would still find something about her incredibly captivating. They would be drawn to her. Soon she would dominate an entire room, and entire arena with her presence. They would think they weren't drawn to her, and in that delusion laid their downfall. Her poison would overcome them and they would be hers forever, if she chose them. And if she chose them, she would be the only beauty their eyes would ever see.

Harlene's beauty and power were exactly the same thing. They were the only two things about her that did not paradox one another. It was fitting.

"Education never stops, my dear. There is always something more to learn. Though I hold great pride in your growth as well as my role in it, it does not have to end. There are many things I can still teach you. Indeed I would regret it very much if you decided to terminate our contacts."

"Neither of us has a choice in that."

"And that is because…?"

"Because you're going to die."

Her voice was utterly calm but her face was dark. Dooku released her and smiled dryly.

"What makes you say that?"

She shrugged. "It's just the way things are. Anakin will kill you."

Dooku chuckled. "I am afraid you are being biased, Harlene. I am aware as to how much the boy means to you. But that is no way to judge. He lacks the most basic forms of discipline despite his extraordinary power. He will need the guidance of Lord Sidious if he ever hopes to realize even a smidgen of his potential."

"Maybe. But he's still going to kill you."

Dooku's gaze grew cool. "Then you are sorely mistaken."

She sighed. "Count…if there is one thing in this universe that you will never deserve it's an honorable death. But when the time comes…don't ask me to help you. Just don't. That's all I have to say."

She vanished and Dooku snorted in disappointment. The girl still had a long way to go. What with him training new apprentices, he probably wouldn't have much time for her. But if even after all this time she still clung to her delusions, there really wasn't much more he could do for her.

But his feelings changed six hours later. His feelings changed when he found himself kneeling at the feet of Anakin Skywalker, his wrists in fiery agony and two blades crossed at his throat: his and Skywalker's.

"Good, Anakin, good! I knew you could do it!"

The triumph alone in Palpatine's voice was enough for Dooku to realize what his Master's true plan was,  _had_  been since even before they made contact. And in that moment he couldn't be ashamed at the twinge of kinship he felt with Darth Maul.

"Kill him," Sidious said. "Kill him now."

Skywalker hesitated. "I shouldn't…"

"Do it!" Sidious barked.

Still Skywalker hesitated. His eyes were locked with Dooku's. Then slowly, he turned his head to the right.

Right where Harlene stood with her arms crossed.

She was staring at Dooku, ignoring the two other pairs of eyes boring into her form. Finally, her gaze met Anakin's and even before she gave a small but firm nod of her head, he knew. He knew what he should have known a long time ago. She wasn't here to observe. She knew the future of this galaxy.

And she was here to make sure that future came to pass.

Dooku couldn't break himself away from those eyes. Such soulless, ruthless eyes. They didn't even look like they were Harlene's. They looked like they belonged on an entirely different person.

On an entirely different person…

Dooku felt a searing pain on his neck and took her greatest secret with him to the grave.

xXx

"You did the right thing, Anakin." Harlene said.

"She's right, Anakin," Palpatine said. "He was far too dangerous to be left alive."

Harlene hadn't taken her eyes off of Dooku as Anakin beheaded him, but she had felt Sidious's eyes on her. Had felt his satisfaction that the one who was closest to his aspiring pupil approved of killing Dooku, but also anger that Anakin had done so at her cue and not his.

_Tough luck, Sidious._

After Sidious continued to assure Anakin he had done the right thing, it wasn't his first time, yadda, yadda, yadda, Anakin turned to Harlene but she only gave him a 'what did you expect? You know me' look.

She would speak to Anakin later. Of course it would mostly consist of consoling him over his visions of the death of his bitch-wife, but she didn't mind. Comforting Anakin had never been a chore for her, even when her plan had still been directed at him.

Knowing she couldn't afford to be in the same presence as Anakin and Grievous, Harlene made an excuse of receiving orders and watched their escape from Grievous's flagship from afar. Though she wanted to get away and see those that were waiting for her, to experience Anakin's impossible stunt of landing Grievous's half-blown ship was nothing short of awesome.

_The best star-pilot in the galaxy_  Harlene thought as Obi-Wan, Anakin, Palpatine and Artoo disembarked.  _At least Obi-Wan told one truth in_  A New Hope.

She uncloaked herself and watched from afar as reporters clamored around the newly rescued Chancellor and his Jedi heroes. They all looked so ecstatic and relieved, desperate to get a word from the Chancellor and the Jedi that they could publish in the news and their tablets. Harlene began to sing again.

_Come writers and critics who prophesize with your pens_

_And keep your eyes wide the chance won't come again_

_And don't speak too soon for the wheels' still in spin_

_And there's no tellin' who that it's namin'_

_Cause the loser now will be later the win_

_For the times they are a changin'_

"That's very poetic and fitting. So were the last two sections."

Harlene closed her eyes then reopened them.

"What is it called?"

Brief pause. "'The Time's they are a-changin'."

"Is there more?"

"There are too more stanzas. But I'm saving them for a more appropriate time."

He moved to stand directly beside her and she finally looked at him and smiled. "I've been wondering when you would show up again."

Qui-Gon Jinn, transparent and shimmering looked at her with appraising gentleness. "Do you finally believe you have a connection to the Force? I would not be able to communicate with you if you did not."

"I don't need a connection to the Force," Harlene said. "I can hear and see you through other means. Even the Force couldn't tell you what my superiors are capable of."

"Perhaps," he sighed looking slightly disappointed.

"How long have you been watching me?"

"Not too long. But I see that you've grown and changed quite a bit."

"For the best," Harlene said and stared off into the distance.

Qui-Gon followed her gaze. It was locked on Mace Windu and Obi-Wan.

"I don't believe I've ever seen such hatred before," his tone was melancholy. "And that is saying something. Are you certain you've changed for the best?"

"I was lost but now I'm found. I was blind but now I see," she bared her teeth. "I should have seen a long time ago. But I see now."

"Harlene—"

She turned to him so sharply she could have sworn he flinched. "They deserve everything they're going to get. I'd bestow it on them myself if I wasn't forbidden from interfering."

"Harlene, you cannot blame them, they—"

He fell silent again at the look of supreme disappointment and disgust on her face.

"You know what they've done. What they've allowed. What they plan to do. And you have the nerve to make such asinine excuses? They've been a threat to the Force for thousands of years. And now the Force is finally starting to balance itself out. But it won't start with the destruction of the Sith."

"Do you believe the Sith would do better?" he asked quietly.

"No. But if your old friends succeed in their plan to overthrow Palpatine and take over the Senate they would become just like the Sith. Maybe even worse. They fear the darkness. They're terrified of it. And that's why it would consume them. The Sith at least know how to wield the darkness. It's one of their rare redeeming qualities."

"I cannot deny what they have done and plan to do," Qui-Gon said after a long silence. "But they do not deserve death or the deaths of those they care for."

"Well, that's where you and I disagree wholeheartedly. I want them to suffer. And I'll add to that suffering as much as I can."

"If you believe that is what you must do."

Harlene scowled. "Why are you here, Qui-Gon?"

"I cannot interfere with the will of the Force. But I can find loopholes if I desire," a small smile touched his mouth. "I could not speak to you before but now I can."

Her anger began to melt away at the affectionate fatherly look he had bestowed on her more than once before and even felt some guilt at having snapped at him. Her hatred of the Jedi Order may be perfectly justified but Qui-Gon didn't deserve to be treated like dirt just because he wasn't vengeful and bloodthirsty. Her scowl softened and she smiled in turn.

"I'm glad to see you again. I missed you. I…I hoped you would want to see me again."

His eyes grew appraising. "You said before you wondered when I would show up. You knew of my discovery before I even told you."

Harlene raged at herself inwardly.  _You fucking idiot…_

"Just like you knew when to kill that droid on Naboo before Obi-Wan, Jar-Jar and I were killed," he continued. His voice wasn't the least bit condemning. "You also knew which R2 unit to protect when the Queen's ship was damaged."

She looked away.

"You are absolutely certain that the Sith will destroy the Jedi Order, as if it has already happened. There was too much triumph in your eyes. You probably know quite a lot things don't you? Things I don't even know." The sympathy in his voice made her teeth hurt. "But the things you know don't always come about. You have to make sure they do. That's why you're here."

Harlene's face was a stony mask. "I guess there's no danger in you knowing. The Force has to shift a certain way before you can communicate with someone, or even reveal anything. It maintains its balance well," she looked up. "That's only half of it though. The other half is the truly crazy part. You'll never guess it."

"I believe you," he said. "And maybe you are right. I will not cut myself off from the possibility that there are things greater than the Force, but you were sent here for more than one extraordinary purpose."

"And you think that because…?"

"I am merely trusting my instincts."

"You're not the only one who's back from the dead," she said wryly. "Maul is too."

"Maul?"

"Darth Maul. The Sith apprentice who killed you. I found him in a separate bubble of this dimension."

"I see," he sounded intrigued rather than disturbed.

"I have to go now," she said. "There are people waiting for me."

"Of course," he gave an understanding nod. "But I would like to talk with you again. If you feel you can trust me I would like to know what brought about your drastic shift in views, and not just on the Jedi."

"I will," she said. "And I do trust you."

The ship she teleported to next had taken a drastic change since the first time she had been in it. It was still easy to remember the cold isolation, the palpable negativity that had projected through the atmosphere. Even more potent was the feeling of wrongness.

_This negativity does not need to exist_  Harlene had thought years ago.  _It serves no purpose. It only offers a shallow illusion of purpose. Something needs to be done._

She had wanted so much to do something, but feared to do so would be extremely presumptuous and arrogant. It wasn't until later that she realized she could do something. Something that wasn't presumptuous or arrogant.

She could be there. Be there to listen, fight, talk, touch, smile or just plain sit in silence. It was what she had been doing all along without even realizing it. That was the funny part. Or rather ironic part.

Harlene's eyes scanned the small living area. The only physical change that occurred over the years was the addition of a comfortable-looking sofa. But the atmosphere held genuine warmth and comfort. Private warmth and comfort. An outsider wouldn't feel it. But that was one of the reasons Harlene valued it so.

She began to walk through one of the corridors and didn't bother to keep her footsteps quiet. Almost immediately she sensed movement up ahead.

"Harlene?"

"Over here."

Rapid, eager footsteps grew louder as they followed her voice. From the entrance to the cockpit, the pale lithe form of Aurra Sing emerged.

Harlene smiled.

"Hey."

Aurra just stared at her for a moment. Then she crossed the distance between them and for the second time in two days, Harlene found herself clasped in a tight, possessive embrace. But it was different than Maul's. There was an equal balance of affection and possessiveness.

"You were gone for two weeks," Aurra murmured into her hair. "You're never gone for that long," she pulled away slightly and Harlene could see the anger and accusation on her face. "Why didn't you tell me you were going to be gone longer?"

Harlene met her dark blue eyes unflinchingly. The change in them was drastic as well but not unfamiliar. There was deep affection. Even love. But also an obsession that was anything but healthy. And possessiveness. Lots and lots of possessiveness.

It was Maul and Anakin all rolled into one.

"I'm sorry," she said keeping her tone softly sympathetic. "You were going hunting. I thought you would be occupied for a little while."

Aurra glared at her. "Even on my toughest assignments I don't hunt every hour on the hour. You know that," the long-fingered hands on her back and shoulder tightened. "You could have stopped by. More than once even. Why didn't you?"

If Harlene didn't know Aurra so well, she would have been amused at the underlying petulant sulkiness in her voice. But she was far more concerned with the fear and vulnerability that showed no sign of vanishing anytime soon. She never forgot that this woman was really a child that didn't, and was unable to grow up. At least right now.

Harlene sighed and looked down. "I said I'm sorry, Aurra, but something came up. Something…bad."

"Look at me," she released her shoulder and gently but firmly tilted her head up. "What 'bad' has happened? Tell me now."

Harlene told her not leaving anything out. She had asked Claire if Fries and her goons could spy on the realities. Thankfully the answer was no.

"Doesn't matter," Aurra said when they finished their discussion. She had interrupted quite a bit of times with sharp questions and her current tone implied she was trying very hard to convince herself everything would be all right. "It doesn't matter," she repeated quickly. "You're more than a match for me as far as hand-to-hand combat goes. And your powers…no one could defeat you here. No one could defeat you ever. No one will defeat _us,"_  her hands cupped Harlene's face almost roughly and her eyes blazed. "When those cowardly schuttas show their faces we'll crush them. Together."

"Aurra, you know I can't bring you with me to another dimension. And even if I could—"

Aurra's grip was now painful and her teeth were bared in fury.

"Don't say that," she hissed. "You will  _not_  leave me behind if you can help it. Promise me.  _Promise me."_

"I promise. But Aurra," Harlene's eyes began to blaze with a fire of their own. "You could fight if they came here, but they wiped an entire dimension away like it was nothing. These games they want to play…I don't know what they hell they are yet, but I do know they don't see you as living beings. They see you as a means to an end. They see you as blackmail material for us. If, when they come you'll be nothing more than a hostage. And if my creed disobeys them or makes a wrong decision…you all die."

Aurra stared at her incredulously before laughing.

"You think I'm scared of dying?" she laughed again. "Harlene, even I don't know how many times I wished I was dead before. Fear of death is a joke. It always has been and it always will be."

"And me? Would my death be a joke to you?"

Maybe she shouldn't have asked that. The incredulity that now twisted Aurra's features was nothing short of enraged.

"No one," she hissed, putting her face a mere inch from Harlene's. "No one will so much as look at you the wrong way and live.  _No one."_

Harlene remained calm through the heat of Aurra's passion that bordered on madness. She reached up and touched her face.

"If you care for me, then you care for yourself," her voice was tender. "You want to live, and you know I would be devastated if you died. Please don't say fear of death is a joke. Not after I've learned how much danger you're in now."

Harlene let her hurt show and Aurra's face shone with remorse and pain before she pulled her tightly in her arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't want to hurt you. I'm just so relieved. If this Virus Creed was targeting you instead of me—"

"They are targeting me," Harlene insisted.

"But they won't kill you," Aurra said. "Not if they want you to play their games."

"They could kill us," Harlene murmured against Aurra's shoulder. "But right now they won't."

"You're not going to die.  _You're not."_

Harlene could hear her voice beginning to crack. She was all but shaking in her arms. She knew she needed to calm her down or else they would have another episode.

"We'll beat them," she whispered fervently. "They won't touch any of you. I'll kill every one of them myself if I have to. But I won't. My creed fights as one. We'll make them wish they'd never been born."

"Yeah," Aurra began to relax. Her long finger threaded through black locks. "God help anyone who challenges you. Or me."

Harlene raised an eyebrow. "Picking up habits from me?"

"I've known the Force exists since before I could walk, but I've never believed it had a will. No matter what…what  _she_  said," the word 'she' was drenched in loathing. "I've never believed in any higher power apart from that. But if you believe there's one in your dimension, I won't call you a liar."

A smile curled Harlene's mouth. "I value your trust. I can't tell you how much I do."

It wasn't the first time she had said that. Like the last few times, Harlene sensed shock and embarrassment, as if Aurra still couldn't believe she was actually trusting someone. But there was also a deep desire, a  _hunger_  to trust and be trusted in turn.

"Only for you," Aurra whispered in her ear. "Trust will only be for you."

Once the animosity between them had vanished(even before then), Aurra had become the only companion Harlene had in her reality that didn't follow a specific routine whenever she visited. Sometimes Aurra would take her to uninhabited planets to train and sometimes they would stay on the ship the entire time. They would share meals together(Aurra made sure to keep a pantry and refrigerator stocked with snacks and beverages suitable for humans), they would talk and sometimes very rarely they would sit in silence.

It sounded fairly simple, but what made it unpredictable was  _how_ they would do it. They shared conversations during meals but sometimes Aurra wouldn't say a word. She would just sip her blood and watch Harlene eat. The emotions Harlene had seen on her face had varied from wonder, greed, sadness, fear, affection and some deep intensity Harlene could never put her finger on.

Harlene would also categorize Aurra as the most touchy-feely of her companions. Even more so than Maul. When the first barriers between them had been overcome, Aurra had started initiating touch and eventually inviting it. Her beginning child-like curiosity and awe at the contact, as if she couldn't believe it actually existed had been endearing at heart-breaking at the same time. Harlene had shed a fair share of tears after such visits. The first time Aurra accepted a true embrace from Harlene, they had stayed in the position for over an hour. Eventually they progressed from touching to hugging to outright cuddling. It wasn't weird. Not to Harlene. It was gentle and warm and comforting. But what made it so rewarding was the knowledge that she had a touched a life in such a positive way. That she had given someone something real to live for.

She knew no other feeling could ever hope to compare to it.

"You're staying tonight, right?"

Aurra's voice and expectant look broke Harlene out of her thoughts when they finished eating dinner.

"Of course," she replied putting her trident down. "But I need to leave for a little while tomorrow morning."

"Why?"

"You know," Harlene said quietly.

The scowl on Aurra's face was jealous and hateful. Harlene knew better to ignore it, but that didn't make it any less annoying.

"You know I come back whenever I can," she said as calmly as she could.

"You also never leave so soon," Aurra countered.

"Well, there's also my plan for the Jedi," Harlene pointed out. "I still need to find out what the best course of action will be."

It was a weapon she had been using for quite some time but it always had the desired effect. Aurra's face lit up with glee and anticipation.

"I want them all to suffer," her voice was trembling with emotion. "But whenever I see one or hear the location of one, I just want to kill it, not make it suffer."

"Well, forgive me, but I tend to have more patience than you," Harlene reached out and touched her face. "Whatever I can give them I'll give it as hard as I can. And it'll be for you."  _And Anakin, Depa, Kar, Codi Ty, Grievous, Qui-Gon_   _and so many others_  she silently added.

Aurra grasped her hand. "The Dark Woman's still mine, though. You can't take that away from me."

"I wouldn't kill her even if I could," Harlene's eyes smoldered. "Death is far, far too good for the likes of her."

She could see Aurra drinking in her words. Or rather the tone in which she spoke them as well as the hidden meaning within. She squeezed her hand tightly and stood up.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," she turned away rather abruptly. "Wait for me in the bedroom."

Another recent change. Aurra now called it 'the bedroom' instead of 'my quarters'. But there was a very good reason for that.

Harlene cleared away her dishes and made her way to 'the bedroom'. It was small, but like the rest of the ship it was now devoid of negativity and cold isolation. There was an actual bed in it that had taken the place of a small cot Harlene would have expected to see in a prison cell rather than someone's bedroom. It wasn't luxurious, but comfortable-looking and it was large enough for two people. The only other two pieces of furniture was a nightstand with a glow lamp and a shelf that contained dozens of electronic books. A few were fictional, but most were historical. It was another thing Aurra had in common with Maul.

Harlene stared at the shelf, biting her lip as she thought of Maul completely alone in that bubble. She would need to go back to him very soon. But maybe she could give him a few books so he didn't have to spend all his time training, meditating and waiting for her. She sat on the bed and shifted her clothing in her traditional sleep attire of a spaghetti-strapped shirt and drawstring pants. Pulling out her comm, she flicked on the news.

"Many United States citizens have come to believe that they have as much to fear from the government as they do the Congress of Aryan Alliances. The President's address to the nation last week included the revelation of the enigmatic 'Error Corrector' creed and the virtual realities that supposedly run over eighty percent of the country's appliances. Riots in Georgia and New Jersey protest that the Unites States government recruited the Error Correctors for the sake of having a personal army, and that the even more mysterious Virus Creed was once and maybe still is in the President's personal employ. Several law suits are being filed against Dr. Simon Anderson, founder of Virtech for fraud and theft—"

Harlene switched it off and threw her comm aside, fearful that she would crush it in her anger.

"Harlene?"

She looked up. Aurra stood in the doorway. She was barefoot and dressed in sleep attire similar to Harlene's, except that her shirt exposed some of her midriff. She stepped inside and approached Harlene with concerned eyes. "What is it?"

Harlene laughed and shook her head. "I'm not surprised. We always need someone to blame after all."

"What are you talking about?"

"My people. My fellow Americans. They're blaming the government and my superiors for what the CAA and the Virus Creed have done," her eyes hardened. They weren't deceived. Their society revolved around the games. They were told superior virtual games had taken a bulk of the work load. Hell, some people followed minor characters in the realities from their home computers! They've been  _helping_  run the realities!

"Let them die, then," Aurra said, her voice completely ruthless. "If they don't want your help, then don't give it."

"You didn't want my help at first."

The way Aurra's eyes narrowed told Harlene she didn't like the comparison  _at all._  She crossed the distance between them and sat beside her on the bed.

"If they've trusted their government for decades, centuries, then they should continue to trust it. They asked it to keep them safe and if they don't like your methods, then they should be on their own," Aurra looked at her. The shadows played on her face. "I've never completely trusted anyone before you. Not the Dark Woman, not that Twi'lek schutta, not the Jedi. And I'll never trust another like you."

It wasn't that simple but Harlene just sighed and said, "I guess."

Aurra put an arm around her waist and gently pulled her down. Aurra lay on her back while Harlene rested against her side, her arm across Aurra's stomach and her cheek against her right breast. For a while neither made any move to sleep.

"Don't risk yourself for them," Aurra said at last. "Do it only for people who would do the same for you in return, if you risk yourself at all."

"It's not that simple, Aurra. If you'll listen I'll try and explain some other time, but if I help them I help you at the same time."

"And if you had to choose between them and the people you care about?"

"I would find a way to save you all."

Aurra gave a small, derisive snort. "Well, if I can't convince you…" she ran her fingers through her hair and sighed. "I know you would choose those you care for. But you have a duty too. I won't pretend to understand, just…swear that you'll tell me if I can help. Whatever you need, anything I can give…swear it."

"I do," Harlene whispered. "I'll never shut you out. I promise."

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

" **So you're right. Again. Pardon my bored tone of voice."**

" **Anyone with a shred of common sense would have known after watching her interactions with Anakin."**

"' **You mean more to him than Obi-Wan Kenobi'. Hah. Obi-Wan barely means anything to him. When he thought he was dead during the Clone Wars, he just shed a couple of tears and then went about his life. Their friendship was, is, a lie."**

" **Sidious meant to say Padme, I think. But you're right. The sacred friendship between Obi-Wan and Anakin is a lie. That's the only issue I have with Matthew Stover's novelization."**

"' **They are closer than friends. Closer than brothers. Neither can imagine life without the other'. That made me laugh the first time I read it. But Stover's a huge fan of Obi-Wan. He doesn't 'fanboy' him especially at the end of the book, but I think he just wanted it to be."**

" **That quote is far more accurate when you use it to reference Harlene and Anakin."**

" **Yeah. She did it all right. She means more to him than even Padme Amidala. Padme's death would drive him to unsurpassed grief and misery, but if Harlene ever died he would become outright suicidal."**

" **While my apprentice has unrivalled power over Anakin, I still see guilt in her eyes from time to time. More perhaps because of how she planned to use it at first, but she still has it. And she doesn't need it. At least not now."**

xXx

When Harlene awoke she was surprised to find herself in the exact same position she had been in upon falling asleep. It wasn't uncommon for her to move around when asleep but it was even more common for Aurra to wake up in the middle of the night and hold her close to her like a child with a security blanket. Which was saying something since they had been sleeping together for only a few months. Harlene lifted her head up slightly and found herself staring at Aurra's sleeping face. There was only a trace of peace in it, but it was a vast improvement from months ago. There had been times before where Harlene's unconscious movements had not only caused Aurra to awaken immediately but to grab her arms with bruising force and throw her off the bed. Harlene never forgot the terror on Aurra's face the first time that had happened. She had looked like a little girl who was about to be told she would be locked in a pitch-black cave for the rest of her life, which was ironic since she had done far worse things before they had become…whatever they were now. Though Harlene had forgiven and reassured her, Aurra had spent the remainder of the night awake, clutching Harlene tightly in her arms. She knew her movements awoke Aurra from time to time even now, but Aurra never voiced a word complaint.

Black, sunken eyelids snapped open and then half-closed in an almost lazy manner. As an unparalleled assassin and bounty hunter, Harlene knew Aurra could be instantly alert upon awakening, but right now, there was no need to. The arm around Harlene's waist tightened while her free hand stroked her hair and arm.

"Did I just sleep for more than three hours straight?" Aurra said.

"I wouldn't know," Harlene replied apologetically. "I'm no light sleeper. I can conk out for ten hours sometimes."

"The benefits you can enjoy of being a purebred human."

"You think your father's species didn't need to sleep much?"

"Mmm," Aurra's fingertips trailed down her forearm. "Don't know, don't care."

Lucasfilm had never released the identity of Aurra's father or his species. Harlene decided to not find out what the Founders had made up since she highly doubted she or Aurra could benefit by knowing. Harlene strongly suspected that Aurra's birth had been courtesy of a rape since her mother Aunuanna had been an old, spice-addicted and mentally unstable woman. She also suspected her father's species had some kind of powers of precognition and intended for her to be born. Her father had clearly been of a species of formidable physiology since he had passed down heightened senses, reflexes, Force-sensitivity and a long life span to his daughter. In one of the Legacy of the Force novels Aurra had confessed that if she ever found out who her father was she would hunt him down and kill him, but here in the rare times her father was mentioned, Aurra expressed little more than casual apathy.

That's because she has something for more worthwhile to focus on Harlene's inner voice supplied helpfully.

"Aurra, I have to leave for a little while now."

Harlene mentally sighed in mile exasperation when Aurra rolled over and clutched her tightly.

"Stay. Just for a minutes longer. Please."

_I wonder if this is how parents feel_  Harlene thought. She ended up staying for another half hour before pulling herself from Aurra's death grip.

"Are you going to be gone for another two weeks?" the bitterness in Aurra's voice was barely masked. "Should I take another job right away?"

"If you want," Harlene said as she shape-shifted her clothes. "But I highly doubt I'll be gone for two weeks. If something comes up I'll be sure to tell you. And if you do take a bounty, that won't stop me from seeing you."

Aurra was still half sitting half lying on the bed and there was visible fear and resentment on her face. Mentally sighing again, Harlene went up to her wrapped her arms around her upper body. Aurra responded with desperate eagerness, burying her face in her jumpsuit.

Harlene gave her a brief, comforting squeeze, withdrew and bid her a soft farewell before teleporting.

"Claire if all possible, I don't want to leave Aurra alone again for two weeks," Harlene said into her comm. "Not if I want to lose what little progress we've gained as far as her mental stability goes."

" **I know, Harlene, but I can't make you any promises. These are times of war after all."**

"Yeah," Harlene ran a hand through her hair. "Anakin already had his dreams about his bitch-wife dying. Think I should go see him now?"

" **You should see someone else, apprentice. He hasn't seen you in two weeks also and from past experiences I don't recommend leaving him for longer than that."**

Harlene groaned. "Fuck. How could I have forgotten that?"

" **You didn't. You just have a lot on your plate right now."**

"All right. I'm going now," Harlene holstered her comm and teleported.

Like on good old planet Earth there were plenty of places in the Star Wars universe that could be synonymous to 'hell'. Harlene had been to only a few of them, including Haruun Kal, Kalee, the slums of Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa, the palace of a Hutt and various other planets when they were caught in the middle of a Clone Wars battle.

But none of them, none of them could even hope to match up to Kessel.

Or more specifically, the infamous spice mines of Kessel.

When Harlene had first been to Kessel, it had been before her eyes had been fully opened to the corruption in the Republic. Therefore, she had firmly denied that the prison was truly under Republic control. It was an error in the canon plot she had told herself. There was no way the Republic could be in charge of a place so indescribably horrific. Harlene would never deny her vengeful or sadistic nature, but there were only very, very select few people she would say deserved to be there. And they all fell in the league of Adolf Hitler.

The mines themselves had fallen under the authority of the Colicoids, an insectoid race that was just as bad, and maybe even worse than the Huk since the Colicoids were prone to cannibalism and even ate travelers that passed through their systems. They could form their bodies into tight balls, which was why they designed the infamous droidekas they way they did. When the Trade Federation first purchased droidekas from the Colicoids, they paid for them with fifty shiploads of exotic flesh. Therefore it wasn't uncommon for a prisoner to do a mysterious disappearing act from time to time. But the Colicoids were sadistic too, and they hated Jedi. Meaning they hated Force-sensitives.

God help any Force-sensitive sent to the spice mines of Kessel.

Kessel was the only place in the galaxy where the incredibly valuable spice glitterstim could be produced. Glitterstim came from the webs of energy spiders and had to be mined in total darkness or else the spice would be ruined. Adding to the hot, sweaty atmosphere of the mines and the traumatizing darkness, the spiders were very prone to attack any prisoner who came too close.

But the reason Harlene found Kessel to be such a perfect synonym to hell was because it could be very, very cold too. Glitterstim in its raw form was often fatally poisonous. To dilute it enough so that in small amounts it could give the user great pleasure and even telepathic powers it had to be bathed in liquid nitrogen for a number of hours. And the factory where vats of liquid nitrogen dwelled was placed, conveniently, right next to the prison cells. The worst criminals or the ones that the Colicoids wanted to suffer the most were put in an area where they wouldn't freeze to death but would be extremely uncomfortable. Enough so that they would often wish they were back in the mines. And then the heat would make them wish they were back in their cells.

It was ingenious psychological torture.

The atmosphere was very thin, which resulted in prisoners becoming out of breath a lot sooner than usual but breathable enough. That was a small change from canon Harlene had heard. In canon, inmates had been required to wear oxygen masks at all time, but Harlene knew why the Founders had changed that: it was a contrivance. If gas masks were required to live in Kessel, prisoners would be committing suicide left and right by merely removing them.

Cloaked and silent as a wraith, Harlene regulated her body temperature and stopped outside a familiar cell. She knelt by the metal door and scrapped/tapped her finger on it forming a Morse code message. It would have been a lot easier to use her telepathic powers, but they caused pain to a mind weakened by drugs. Not to mention teaching it had helped pass the time.

She got a response even before she had completed her request to enter.

Upon slipping her body through the door two enormous hands grabbed her arms almost painfully in their desperation. Though Harlene was Force-blind, the interface enabled her to perfectly understand the equally desperate animalistic growl that followed.

_Water. Water!_

Well used to this happening, Harlene summoned a medium-sized bulb of water and passed it over. She then sat down by the hard cot and kept her eyes on the wall in front of her, ignoring the ravenous gulps to her right. They were followed by gasps and snarls of both pain and relief. Harlene continued to remain silent and keep her eyes on the wall until the empty bulb was pushed toward her.

_Thank you._

"You're welcome," Harlene took the bulb back and stared at it for a moment. The amount was only enough to reduce thirst to a few levels below intolerable. Anymore and an even bigger price would be paid. She then summoned a protein bar and held it out.

"Here."

No response. She turned her head to glare at the enormous figure crouched beside her. "Don't fuck with me again, Kar.  _Take it!"_

The power of the returned glare had reduced due to years of unheard of torture and deprivation. But even at its peak it had always failed to intimidate her. A few moments passed and eventually hunger won over stubbornness. Harlene waited patiently and gave him privacy as he ate. She made no move to break the silence that followed though she could feel Kar staring at her and hear his harsh breathing and near constant shivering. Harlene raised the temperature in the cell per routine but this time the action was met with a black scowl.

_Why do you do keep doing this?_

Harlene smiled faintly.

"Do you want a real answer or did you just need to get that out of your system?"

She felt his hand grasp her shoulder.

_Look at me._

She did and kept her eyes soft but devoid of pity as she stared at the suffering in his dark eyes and gaunt face. He was a very young man. Not even twenty-five years old. But in two years he looked as if he had aged two decades. The muscles on his seven-and-a-half foot frame were still bulky and powerful, but he had become quite a bit thinner. His brown skin was ashen and covered in scars and healing wounds. The hair of his beard was wilted and brittle. His prison trousers, the only article of clothing he wore, were torn and smeared with dust and dirt. His pores reeked of sterilization chemicals, ash and despair.

_You know. You know why you keep doing this. Answer me!_

She gave him an incredibly condescending look. "You asked me to visit you before your sentence was carried out," she paused and then said, "No. 'begged' would be a more appropriate word."

He bared his teeth at her and she had to suppress a smile as she was reminded of Maul. But Kar looked far more threatening since his teeth were long, curved and needle sharp. A predator's teeth.

_I do not beg._

"No. You  _did_  beg."

He snarled wordlessly and grasped both her shoulders, turning her around to fully face him.

_Answer my question!_

Harlene sighed, understanding. "Do you regret what you told me last month?"

His grip tightened, though his hands were shaking and his teeth were clenched so hard Harlene half expected them to start cracking.  _I do not know why I told you. I do not know what in_ pelekotan _could have possessed me to tell you. Why did I tell you? I never told anyone._

"You would have told Depa if she had asked," Harlene pointed out gently.

_But she didn't_  Kar countered.  _She is far too respectful, far too considerate to ask such a thing merely to satisfy curiosity._

Harlene's eyes narrowed at his almost accusing tone. "You know damn well I didn't ask out of curiosity. You looked like you needed to talk about it, to tell someone who would listen. What was I supposed to do? Just pretend that you didn't?" she put her hands gently on his forearms. "That I don't care?"

His hands sprung from her shoulders and if they had been burned and backed away. His teeth were still bared but his eyes were now wide.

_Stop it. Stop it._

"Stop what?"

_That look. That is the same look you gave me that time. I felt something happen to me but I didn't think of it then. And that is why I told you._

Harlene flinched, feeling as if he had hit her. She had known too. She had known what she could do for quite some time. But being reminded of it like this was still a severe emotional blow. She abruptly turned away from him, drawing her knees to her chest and covering her mouth with her hand against a sudden tightening in her throat.

_Harlene?_

His growl was now concerned rather than fearful and accusing. She heard him move closer and put a hand on her back.

"I didn't mean too," she whispered almost brokenly. "I didn't mean too."

_The fault is mine. I—_

_(he choose, child. Do not pretend otherwise)_

No, Harlene knew. It hadn't been her fault. Charismatic powers or no, she hadn't controlled his mind. There was always a choice. Feeling an emotion that bordered on anger she looked up and stared hard at him.

"No. I was wrong. I didn't make you do anything," she said. "You  _wanted_  to tell me and you  _chose_  to tell me. Now, I asked, do you regret it?"

He seemed surprised at the challenge in her voice. After a while he lowered his head.

_I do not. I apologize again for lashing out. I hold no anger for you. You are correct. I chose to tell you just as you chose to listen. My frustration stems from my lack of understanding. I accepted my past long ago and I never intended to share any part of it with anyone. But last month as we conversed_ his growl grew frustrated.  _I still do not know._

"Maybe you became aware of a burden you didn't know you had," Harlene said. "I'm an expert on that."

_Perhaps_ his growl was mechanical.

"Perhaps? You were the leader of the best Korunnai fighting force in the Summertime War, Kar. When I first met you, you were beyond single-minded. All you wanted was to kill every offworlder on your home planet, and you would sacrifice anything for that goal. How could you notice or care about a burden so personal and emotional? What's more, the abilities and powers you gained from spending over a year in the jungle separated you from everyone on more than one level."

_That is irrelevant. I felt no need to tell my people anything save for the bare minimum._

"Because you knew how much the jungle changed you," Harlene finished. "You were emotionally isolated from everyone. And you tried to take comfort in that isolation. But you failed miserably and that's the other reason why you recruited your Akk Guards."

Kar snarled at her.  _How I have always detested your presumptuousness._

"I don't hear you denying it."

_There would be no point in doing so. You are so certain you are correct and will exercise your gloating rights even if you are fatally mistaken._

With a single punch Harlene sent him careening into the opposite wall. Instead of pinning him telekinetically, she grabbed both his wrists and held them in place after slamming them against the stone.

"Gloating rights?" she repeated with deadly calm. "You're right. You are absolutely right. Shall I name all the times I've gloated? How about when you were in that cell on Coruscant? I grinned and laughed like a loon, didn't I? Or when you swallowed your pride and begged, yes you did, for me to visit you here because you knew of the loneliness and hardship that awaited you. I didn't tell you to stop looking at me as if you  _thought_  I was going to laugh at you. No. I  _laughed._  I laughed my  _stupid. Fucking. Head off_. And I haven't been coming here at least every two weeks over the past two years to ease your pain as much as I can. No. I come here to see you, the high and mighty untouchable  _lor pelek_  of Haruun Kal being brought to a new level of low time and time again so I can laugh and laugh and FUCKING LAUGH!"

She released him and backed away a step, standing over his prostrate alarmed form. It satisfied her that she had gotten the reaction she had wanted. Colicoids weren't exactly masters of verbal mind games and the only madness he had ever truly faced before was Mace Windu's. Or in other words, none at all.

For a long time there was silence. Harlene's frigid gaze remained locked with Kar's. She decided to let him end it and eventually he did.

_Why though?_  His growl was almost sad and lost.  _We had not been friends on Haruun Kal. I would have been glad to kill you several times for the way you spoke to me. And you did not keep what contempt you had for me a secret. You even said I had practically murdered Liane Trevval and nearly Nick Rostu._   _They_   _were your friends._  He rose to his feet and even though he couldn't stand up all the way in the small cell, he still towered over her. _What are you doing here, Observer Harlene Ballantine?_

Slowly, she walked up to him. When they were barely a foot apart she reached up and touched his cheek.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm really doing, Kar," she said in a low voice. "I thought I did before. That's because I was stupid. But I soon realized I don't need to know so long as it feels right."

His hand wrapped around her forearm, expression containing exasperation but no surprise.

_I have tried to understand how your mind works more than once. Needless to say I failed in all attempts._

Harlene grinned. "You're not alone."

_I know I am not_  affection wormed its way into his growl.  _Have you told anyone else what I told you?_

Her mouth fell open. "Jesus Christ, Kar, do you  _want_  me to punch you in the face again!?"

_I would prefer you didn't_  he admitted while sinking to the floor again.  _But you still have other friends whom you trust._

"I don't have to tell them," she took a seat beside him. "They could find out on their own if they wanted. The information on people and places in this dimension are open for all Observers to see. But you'll never meet them so what does it matter?"

Even as she said this she realized it was untrue. There was a very good chance Kar would meet her friends when the Virus Creed came calling.

_Harlene?_

"Yes?"

_You are troubled._

"Look who's talking."

_You avoid discussing something you are worried about only if it falls into the category of a crisis._  Though his growl was deadly serious there was an underlying layer of smugness in that he was well aware of an intrinsic part of her personality.  _Has something happened?_

Harlene stared at the ceiling. "The times have changed. We're at war again. Probably the biggest we've yet to face."

_War?_

She told him. He didn't interrupt but his face was very dark when she had finished.

_The aide you gave us on Haruun Kal was very limited and did not fall into the category of leadership. But I have seen with my own eyes your ingenuity and ruthlessness. You are a highly skilled and powerful warrior and you are not afraid to do what must be done. I doubt I will need to fear for you._

Subtle phrasing like that was as close as he ever came to telling her he cared for her. But from someone like him it was more than enough.

"It's not me you need to be afraid for," Harlene's voice was almost cutting. "I'm not the one who's being threatened. It's you and everyone I care about here."

_I do not fear death. But from what you described, this Virus Creed can do far worse than kill me. Regardless I trust you to fight to your best ability._  He took her hand in his.  _If there is_   _anything I can do to aide you, you need only say the word._  His next growl was reminiscent to a bitter laugh.  _However right now I am highly limited._

She squeezed his hand. "I always hated your callousness towards innocent life, but I never blamed you for Pelek Baw. Colonel Geptun may have surrendered anyway, but for the actual war to end the Balawai needed to know true loss and fear. Otherwise the conflict would have only resurfaced eventually. Mace Windu even said that the Republic won on Haruun Kal because you destroyed the offworlder's city."

_Really?_  The sarcasm and contempt in Kar's voice was palpable.  _And here I was always under the impression that my doshalo was incapable of learning anything._

"Mace Windu is a dogmatist," Harlene said. "Unless he hears the answers he wants to hear, he'll acknowledge the truth for only a little while."

_I only had brief interactions with other Jedi when I was under detention in the Temple, but it was enough. More than enough. All Jedi are the same. I hope I never know another for as long as I live._

Harlene smiled.

"Don't worry. You won't."

xXx

The charred remains of the Jedi Temple littered the ground. They stank of the blood and despair radiating from the corpses mixed in with them. Some were alight with dying embers that still reflected red off the black sky.

The Sith had triumphed.

And all Darth Maul could do was watch from afar, unable to move as Lord Sidious emerged from behind a slab of stone to meet a tall, cloaked figure that was emerging from the shattered entrance. Screams of fury and denial welled up in his throat as the tall figure gracefully knelt before Lord Sidious

_(my Master my Master MY MASTER)_

and removed his heavy hood revealing a youthful male human face with dark blonde hair and a thin scar over his eye.

"The Jedi are no more, my Master," he spoke in a smooth calm voice. "We are victorious."

Within the shadows of Lord Sidious's hood, the Dark Lord of the Sith smiled at his apprentice.

"You have done well, Lord Vader," his fingertips rested against the young man's brow. "You shall be the greatest of all the Sith. Nothing will stop us now."

The dark side surged through Maul breaking through the paralysis. With a roar he ignited his blade and lunged for the thief who had stolen his right, his dream, his—

Before he could make contact the apprentice leaped up and thrust a hand out. The raw power of the Force push made Maul black out for a moment before he found himself on the ground. When the world grew clear again he looked up and saw the apprentice standing over him, his double-bladed lightsaber in his hand, a cold smile on his lips.

"You blame me?" he whispered. "Why? I stole nothing from you. Lord Sidious chose me because I am worthy," the smile widened to a grin. "And you never were."

Slowly, insolently, the apprentice turned away.

"I don't need to kill you. You're worse than dead. You're a  _failure."_

Lord Sidious didn't even look in Maul's direction as the apprentice made his way back to his Master. They both walked away, side by side. Master and apprentice. They got further and further and further away—

With a yell, Maul awoke and thrust out his arm. When his lightsaber smacked his palm he leaped out of bed and slashed at an imaginary opponent.

Panting, snarling, he remained in a fighter's stance. The crimson light of his blades splashed across the walls like the fire and blood on those pieces of rubble in his dream. Finally he sheathed his weapon and let it hang limp in his hand.

All sentient beings needed sleep. They would die without it. Force-users were no exception. Meditation prolonged the need for sleep but it was not a substitute for sleep.

Maul didn't care. He would make meditation a substitute for sleep if he had to. This marked the third night of having the exact same dream.

_Failure failure failure failure failure._

He slammed his fists against the wall and leaned against it, his breaths harsh and rapid, eyes squeezed shut. Sleep had been nothing but a luxury for him all his life though it was never dreamless. It had always been filled with memories of torture and training sessions, his Sith Trials, Lord Sidious. But he was used to those. And he could channel them into the power of the dark side.

But this dream he could not. It tore at his mind until he thought he would go insane. The mantra  _failure failure failure_  in the apprentice's voice along with the sight of Lord Sidious's retreating back wouldn't leave him alone even after waking up. He never tried to go back to sleep afterward. It would only mean more torment. This time the chronometer said that he had been asleep for less than three hours but he ignored it and got dressed.

_If you like, I could help you sleep._

He didn't halt on his way to his training room.

"Go away," he spat.

_You don't have to suffer like that._

"Leave me alone."

_Harlene is coming back very soon._

Maul halted in his step but only for a moment. When he arrived at his training room he activated all four of his favorite assassin droids and programmed them to kill. If he could have programmed them to look like that blonde human he would have done so in an instant.

_(you blame me? Why?)_

They charged him. He leaped, flipped through the air and made to cleave Rapier in half. The droid blocked with two cortosis blades over its chest. Maul snarled and Force-pushed it away. As it staggered he swung hard to decapitate it but had to go on defensive lest Chain would slice his arm off. Hachete shot a barrage of blaster fire which Maul blocked and then somersaulted. He swept his blade low and sliced off Hachete's legs.

But it was Rapier he wanted to kill right now. Rapier who had staggered from his Force-push like that human had made him stagger. But he wouldn't just make him  _stagger._  His power would cause his  _head_ to explode and sparks to litter the ground. He would then slice his limbs off and laugh. He would triumph over the—

_(I stole nothing from you)_

With a howl Maul plunged his blade into Chain's chest and jerked it up so Chain's head was now a ruined blob of melted metal and wires. The Force whispered a warning and he flipped backward, landing on his feet behind Hachet who was still functioning. His blade tasted metal again and the ruined droid crumbled to the ground. He then made short work of Cudgel.

Rapier was just up ahead.

Maul threw his lightsaber aside and lunged at the droid with bare hands. He dodged three slashes of the droids blades and slammed a hard kick to its abdomen. The droid was still able to attack but Maul was too fast. He punched it in the face and then sent another punch in the exact area he had kicked it. Sparks spat from the droid's head which stung Maul's shoulders. With a leaping high kick he nearly ripped the droid's head clean from its body. Now it was barely standing, blades moving feebly. Maul gripped it by the throat and channeled the Force through it.

Rapier's head then transformed into the young human. His eyes glowed reddish yellow and were alight with the same mockery that was in his smile.

"You're a failure. Failure!"

Maul roared and the Force exploded the human's head but not before it started laughing. It wasn't the human's head anymore. It was just a droid's head. But the laughter rang through the walls. Maul just stood there for a long time gripping Rapier's ruined body by the throat.

"Maul?"

He turned around. Harlene was standing amongst the wreckage, a hesitant look on her face as if fearful she was intruding. Maul threw the droid aside and went up to her, gathering her into his arms only now realizing how much he had ached to touch her over the past three days. She dominated his thoughts. It had been that way for a while. But not even she could make him forget his failure or take away that wretched nightmare.

_She could if you let her._

Maul ignored the voice and inhaled deeply as he pressed his nose against her neck.

_If what you need is purpose, then you're holding it right now. Don't you remember what I said before?_

Harlene's arms had wrapped around his back. The strength of her embrace matched his own. When he pulled away just enough to look into her eyes he saw they were soft with concern.

"What's wrong?"

His purpose was to serve his Master and kill Jedi. Harlene was his and he would never give her up. But if she ever threatened his purpose he would have no choice but to kill her.

Yet now there was no danger of that ever happening.

Gazing into those bright dark orbs the realization hit him full force.

She was all he had left.

He would never bow to Lord Sidious again. He would never kill another Jedi. Like the voice had said everything he had was in his arms right now.

Harlene reached up to touch his cheek.

"What is it?"

His past purpose was gone and the emptiness in its place was unbearable. He needed purpose. He would rather die than not have purpose. But he was still Sith. Sith always found a way. They never gave up.

Maul's hand came up to grasp the one touching his face. His gaze bore into Harlene's and his memory flashed to the vision of the goddess of darkness she would become. On its own accord his mind directed him to stand before her, to look up at her. Awe filled him in the presence of her power. He dropped to his knees(how could he not?) and bowed his head. Dark tendrils caressed his form and he reveled in the warmth and security they gave. An even warmer hand cupped his chin and gently lifted his head up.

"Maul?"

The soft voice snapped him back to reality. Harlene was still staring at him with patience and concern.

"Tell me what's wrong," she said. "I want to help you."

_You will be a goddess of darkness in the future_  Maul realized.  _A goddess I will bow before and serve._

_That will be my purpose._

He was certain of it. He didn't need the voice or the Force or anyone else to tell him. He knew it in his soul. The terrible void within him eased. It didn't fill it. Far from it even. The whisper of his failure still haunted him and he wasn't rid of the torment of seeing the Jedi Temple destroyed by another as well as the apprentice walking away with Lord Sidious.

But it would be filled. Someday. And he would know true fulfillment again when he bowed to that goddess of darkness and pledged himself to her.

The tension in his shoulders eased.

"I am glad you are back," he said.

A flicker of confusion passed over her features. "My superiors said I could come here for a little while. But I may be called away at any time."

That made him angry. Not the job that she had but that there were those who would take her from him whenever they chose. And she had friends too. Friends she had said she would sacrifice anything for, even her life. She valued those bonds more than she valued the bond with him.

He would have to fix that.

"Then we have no time to waste," he said and pulled away from her. "Do you still have the lightsaber I gave you?"

Much to his amusement she looked extremely insulted.

"Yes," she snapped and held it out.

Maul nodded and stepped farther back. "Show me what you have learned. And show me if you remember what I taught you."

He wanted to talk with her, to know how much her eyes had been opened. But that could wait a little while. Right now he wanted to see how much she had grown as a warrior.

Harlene grinned and made a slashing motion with her arm. The remains of his four assassin droids were swept against the wall leaving the floor clear. She then ignited her blade and gave him a Juyo salute.

"Let's rumble."

Her strength far surpassed a normal sentient being but Maul immediately got a taste of how much it had increased when their blades clashed together. She shoved him back and he was forced to back-flip away lest she would knock him down. The flurry she used next was filled with a grace he had never seen in her blade work before. He saw the style she was accustomed to but he also saw a careful blend of aggressive Juyo thrusts and slashes. She was also much better at combining swordsmanship and martial arts. After blocking two swings, she spun on her heel and snapped her leg out. Maul barely managed to jerk his head back in time. When he landed his own kick to her abdomen she barely grimaced and continued to fight as if nothing had happened.

Going easy on her was long passed Maul knew. He had held back before but only to insult her, to make her angry enough so she would unleash her emotions as she fought. But if he let his guard down now he would pay dearly for it.

They broke apart, neither of them panting or showing any sign of fatigue. Maul summoned the Force and hurled the broken droids toward Harlene.

_Let's see how much your real power has grown._

Harlene didn't even look in the direction of the objects flying toward her. Instead she jumped and landed on Chain's broken body while it was still in his Force grip. She then pushed off with her legs and flew toward Maul, blade flashing.

"Impressive," he said when their blades met again.

Harlene grinned. "Isn't it?"

She dropped to the ground and swung her leg in a sweeping kick. Maul jumped but brought his blade down while she was still on the ground. He pressed hard using the Force to add to his strength. Their lightsabers screamed under the pressure. Both combatants gritted their teeth as they fought to outmatch the other. Maul pushed harder and Harlene's own blade was barely an inch from her face.

"Surrender," he said.

Her grimace turned into another grin.

" _Never."_

Harlene then  _extinguished her lightsaber_  and before Maul's blade could cleave her head in half she grabbed his forearms in an unbreakable grip, rolled upward and slammed both feet into his gut. The wind knocked out of him, Maul went flying but managed to twist in midair and land on his feet. He brought his blade up to meet hers…

…and found himself staring at the end of a glowing, rounded tip.

He looked into her eyes and saw they were narrowed and scanning his every move. He judged whether he was fast enough to duck in time and found he wasn't.

Maul extinguished his lightsaber and lowered it. Harlene did the same.

"You have grown much," he said after a while.

"You're still the better swordsman," Harlene said. "I can increase my speed and strength more than you now. You probably would have had me if I couldn't," she smiled. "But you needed to get a taste of how much my powers have grown also."

He glared at her. "I never wanted you to hold back."

"Like you held back before?" she asked coolly. "Maul, I could freeze you in a telekinetic grip if I wanted. And now I can do far, far worse things to your nervous system with my electricity than just paralyze it," her face grew serious. "But the most dangerous thing I can do to myself is rely too much on my powers. You know that."

He holstered his weapon and cupped her cheek. Her skin was flushed making her eyes appear brighter than before.

"That I do," he said.

Maybe it was the exercise but he could feel her stronger scent teasing his senses more than ever. Her hair caressed her neck which shone with the slightest sheen of perspiration. Maul wasn't even thinking when he pressed her to him this time. He had to smell her, to let that intoxicating scent fill his lungs. His gloved fingers threaded into her hair and he had to suppress a desire to rip them off. She was so warm he could feel it all the way down to his  _skin._

"I learned a lot from you before," she said.

"And you will continue to do so," Maul said. "It will still be quite some time before you surpass me."

"You want me to surpass you?"

"Yes."

"Any specific reason? I mean, I'm not a Sith and I'm not your apprentice. Well at least not officially."

He wouldn't tell her of what she would become. It would be so much more satisfying to keep that knowledge to himself as he watched her grow.

"It is inevitable," he settled for. "We Sith respect power above all else. You are worthy of the power you possess, so you are worthy to hone it as fine as you can."

Harlene stiffened in his arms.

"Well, I can't pretend that's not an un-Sith thing to say."

Something in her voice prompted Maul to pull away and demand, "have you been in contact with my Master's other apprentices?"

"Yes."

He gripped her shoulders. "What do they mean to you?"

A sharp spike of pain shot up his hands enough so that he let her go. His furious look was met by her icy one.

"First of all," she said as the blue sparks died from her shoulders. "I will interact with whoever the fuck I want whenever the fuck I want. If you're still harboring delusions about controlling me, then I suggest you pull your head out of your ass while you still can. Secondly, if you have questions you want to ask, do not demand or use physical force or else I will leave. Understand?" a moment later she smiled. "Why are you enraged? Would you have wanted me if I didn't stand up for myself?"

Truthfully no. Her defiance was infuriating as ever but…compelling as well. As he stared at her with his temper urging him to punish her for her disrespect he also wanted to touch her, smell her, see if her anger made her even warmer or her scent more potent.

Maul stood up straight and looked down at her.

"Tell me of your relationships with my Master's other apprentices."

It wasn't a request but it wasn't a demand either. She sighed knowing it was the best she would get right now.

"Well, like I said you can't count Dooku as an apprentice. And he's outlived his use to Sidious. He let Anakin kill him a few days ago."

"You do not sound disappointed."

"And you sound almost gleeful," she countered. "But I'm not disappointed. Dooku deserved what he got. He was a bigot against non-human sentients and he had no real honor. He was also a master manipulator. I knew what I was getting into when I started interacting with him, but he still succeeded in making me do his bidding for a while."

"Did you make him pay?"

"As much as I could," Harlene shrugged. "But in the end it all turned out for the best. I learned a lot from him. But I wasn't at all sorry that he died."

"What did he teach you?"

"We spoke a lot about the Republic. He joined Sidious because he thought it was hopelessly corrupt. At first I thought he was weak but the reasons he gave and the things I later saw especially during the Clone Wars…" she shook her head.

"You are being extremely vague," irritation laced his tone.

"Maul, seriously, do I have to go into exact details? You saw Tatooine. You saw several Hutt palaces. You saw the slums of Coruscant. Everything I needed was right in front of my face for years. But I think my biggest mistake was believing that with hard work and dedication the Republic could last forever. It wasn't until later that I realized that all Republics no matter how peaceful or prosperous or long-lasting will die eventually either by its own hands or by a stupid meaningless war. Maybe even both. That's just the way things are. Politics demands that you move on. You need to be able to pick yourself back up. That's the challenge politics has for us."

Maul nodded as pride and satisfaction coursed through him.  _You've grown so much..._ "So you do understand now. Then you must understand the importance of my Master's plans. When the Republic is no more he will unite the galaxy in the image of the Sith. An empire is not a Republic. An empire will last forever. And those who threaten the peace and stability it brings will be shown no mercy."

"And therein lies the fatal weakness of empire that makes any weakness the Republic has look like strength."

"What are you talking about?"

Her smile contained no mirth. "When you say 'anyone who threatens the peace and stability of empire will be shown no mercy', that doesn't just include people who organize rebellions. You also mean people who so much as utter a single word against it. You would forcefully impose yourself on anyone who disagreed with you. You would take away their freedom of speech and expression—"

"It is necessary—"

"—to impose your personal vision of government. Not a government that would benefit the people."

"It will benefit the people. Nearly all beings in the universe are fools who will never know what's good for them. They must be made to see, and if their stupidity is so profound that they can't then they are of no loss."

"If you have that mentality, the only thing you'll succeed in doing is destroying the universe. People surrender, yes. You can frighten them into submission. You can even brainwash them into thinking that your way is best. But the memory of freedom never dies no matter how big or strong your iron fist is. It will linger and if it takes twenty years or ten thousand, the people will take back their freedom even if it kills them."

It took everything he had not to shake her.

"My Master  _will win."_

"For a while yes. But he will never learn Machiavelli's greatest lesson on how to gain power and keep it: if you value your position and influence, for the love of God leave free people alone. Because nothing can kill the memory of freedom. Nothing."

His pride in her vanished leaving nothing but rage and disappointment. She had grown yes, but she hadn't learned what she truly needed to.

"Freedom," the word was drenched in bitterness, "is worthless. It is the cause of destruction. Perhaps there are those who merely wish to go about their lives and cause no harm, but the majority are the opposite.  _They_ would destroy the galaxy if you gave them the ability to say and do as they pleased. If the lesser population cared anything for their safety, then they would know that they must give up what they hold dear in order to serve the greater good. If not then they are selfish and do not deserve freedom."

"So by that logic, I should give up my freedom to say and do as I pleased to the government I serve because it knows what's best and I'm just an idiot who will never know what's good for me?"

"I am not speaking of any government. I am speaking of the Sith."

"So I should surrender my will to the Sith."

"If you wished to truly prosper, then yes."

"I would rather die."

"That is because you do not understand the Sith."

"I understand that if one person from one species offended a Sith, then that Sith would wipe out the entire race just to provide an example to others of what happens if you defy them. That's not freedom. That's not noble and it's not in the interest of the greater good. That's psychotic megalomania."

"You are melodramatic and severely overstating. The Sith would not—"

"Malak."

"What?"

"Darth Malak. He burned Taris just because he lost his patience with the search of Bastila Shan. And she escaped anyway. Nihilus. He burned Katarr and all but wiped out the Miraluka because a handful of Jedi were on the planet. He could have sent his forces to kill them but he also wanted to feed on the energy of a dying world," her gaze smoldered at him. "Go on, Maul. Tell me right now that that serves the greater good."

"How do you know of this?" he half-whispered half-hissed. "How do you know of Lord Malak and Lord Nihilus? Or Bastila Shan? They lived nearly four-thousand years ago."

"My superiors have ways of gathering information from the past, present and future. Nearly nothing is beyond their reach in the dimensions. I even saw clips of Malak and Nihilus doing what they did. Want to see them?"

He ignored that. "What they did has nothing to do with your previous argument. They did not wipe out an entire species merely because one member offended them. They were trying to destroy the Jedi. Their enemies, and the enemies of the galaxy. If Lord Nihilus wished to absorb the energy of a dying world because of the inevitable then it is because he did not want to waste it. The Sith gain understanding through power."

"And yet you didn't believe me when I told you Sidious was setting up death camps on Naboo."

"My Master had his reasons. Those deaths served his plans."

She stared at him. "Maul, would you burn an entire world just to destroy one Jedi?"

"If I had no other option."

"Malak and Nihilus did have other options."

"Perhaps. But their intentions were to destroy their enemies. They did not destroy Taris and Katarr merely for the sake of destroying them."

"But  _you_  would burn a world only if you had no other option."

He really didn't like her tone of voice or that sudden glint in her eyes.

"What exactly are you saying?"

"That you're better than Malak and Nihilus."

Maul was robbed him of the ability to speak for a while. He stared at her incredulously.

"I am an apprentice to my Master even if he bestowed on me the title of Dark Lord," he said. "I will never be as great as him, or even as great as the Sith of old."

She smiled. "You already are."

Her voice was soft yet the pure sincerity in it nearly made him take a step back. He didn't know whether to laugh, sneer or make a scathing remark. Despite their disagreements, he knew Harlene admired and respected him. And while she should, having such a firm belief about him that was utterly false was baffling.

_Be calm_  he told himself.  _She_   _is deeply flawed. Her idealism distorts her perceptions._

"I am not."

"You are."

"I am not."

"You are."

"You are foolish and biased."

"Biased?" she laughed. "How is me believing that you're better than Malak and Nihilus because you would only destroy a planet as a last resort biased? And when you answer don't say 'they're more powerful than I could ever hope to be' because that has nothing to do with it."

"It does," he said through clenched teeth. "You saying that reveals that you know nothing of the Sith. Power is everything."

"If power is everything," she shrugged casually. "Then I suppose you wouldn't care at all if I teleported away and never came back."

Maul froze. Harlene smiled.

"You don't need me," she continued. "I could just leave and you would be perfectly content to stay here and train and meditate for the rest of your life. I don't fuel your power after all."

"You do," he hissed. Fear and rage roiled in his stomach. He could practically see the warmth radiating from her skin, that beautiful scent calling to him. "You infuriate me with your ideals and your pathetic hero-worship of the Jedi. You feed my hatred. You fuel my power."

"If that's true then I don't need to be physically with you. You don't need to touch me. All you need is the memory of me and the knowledge that I adore the Jedi and—"

She broke off with a sound of shock when Maul grabbed her, pressing her hard against him.

"You," he whispered with deadly menace. "Are  _not. Leaving me."_

After a few moments Harlene spoke.

"Aren't you going to add that you'll keep me here by force if I try to?" her arms didn't embrace him back. "Or did you already realize that you can't when you begged me to stay with you?"

Her ear was an inch from his lips. He wanted to bite that flawless curve, shred her tender lobe.

"I do not beg."

"You did," slowly, her arms came up. "But you didn't have to. I came back on my own free will because I wanted to. I wanted to be with you," her hands stroked his back. "When I make a promise, I always intend to keep it."

Her words and touch soothed the fires of his anger and he didn't fight it. It was unnecessary. He didn't need the power of the dark side right now. What he needed was for her to keep her promise. What he needed was his purpose. Still—

"You have not matured yet fully."

"No," she agreed. "I haven't. But not for the reasons you think."

His hand gripped her hair. "I would forgive you for not understanding the galaxy's need for Sith rule if you acknowledged the Jedi are even more corrupt and vile than the current Republic."

She didn't answer.

"You did not mention what Anakin Skywalker means to you after you told me of Dooku."

"The conversation strayed."

"It has not strayed now."

Brief pause.

"Anakin Skywalker is a whiny, bitchy, egotistical, semi-bigoted, shallow prick."

Maul smirked.

"…and he's also my brother."

 


	6. Chapter 6

" **I must express admiration for your apprentice's iron-clad patience. I know I wouldn't have been able to pretend with Palpatine like that for as long as she has."**

" **You would if you had to. Harlene is willing to wait because she knows someone like Palpatine can't stand to be toyed with. It's the best revenge she can take on him without interfering."**

" **She could get away with punching him in the face. But I see your point. And when you put it that way, yes, I could have waited also."**

" **I think she will end up punching him in the face. She was very bold as a child, but now she won't hesitate to punch someone in the face if that's what it takes for her to get her point across."**

" **Or if the poor victim needs to be coaxed out of a stubborn sulk."**

" **Well, Kar's not a child like Maul and Aurra. Even if he trusted her implicitly, he would still be shocked and frustrated that he told her so much. I checked his character profile that the Founders wrote. He told her everything. At least everything significant."**

" **Your apprentice has incredible powers of persuasion, but his situation was also to blame. He was practically worshiped as a demi-god for years by the Korunnai, now he's nothing but a piece of meat to be tortured and mocked, except to her. Despite the death threats and murder attempts, he did like Harlene before,** _ **very**_ **deep down inside. She was refreshing."**

" **And everything went as planned. He'd fight for her. He'd die for her."**

" **Are you going to keep trying to view the bubble Maul is in?"**

" **I thought about and decided not to. There are times when everything can't be handed to you on a silver platter. It would be more beneficial to get my information from Harlene. And really, that's all I need."**

xXx

Harlene spent the entire day with Maul, but had to go back to the actual reality afterwards. She could still sense errors even in the bubble, but if she wanted to be truly responsible with her profession, she needed to stay in _Star Wars_  for the majority of the time period.

"When will you be back?"

He was a lot better at concealing his resentment than Aurra, but that didn't make it any easier for Harlene.

"Probably by the end of the week," she said.

They were standing in front of the enormous viewport watching Coruscant's sunset. Harlene felt Maul embrace her from behind and press his face to her neck. She reached up to stroke his face in a comforting manner.

He was lost, she knew. And angry, scared and confused. His face had been rather gaunt when she had returned as if he hadn't been sleeping. She would bet her life that nightmares were keeping him awake. Nightmares of darkness and abandonment and a life without purpose. Sidious was probably in them too. The thought made her want to teleport back to her reality and let his skin taste her blade.

Harlene didn't feel helpless. She knew her touch, presence and gentle words helped Maul, but it wasn't enough. If she truly wanted to help him, they would need to communicate more.

But how? How could she start?

What he needed most of all was to let Sidious go. She ached to tell Maul that he hadn't been a real apprentice, just a tool to be cast aside. That Sidious had never valued him and had brushed off his death like a bothersome fly. But right now that would cause Maul to hate and resent her. He trusted her, but that was the one thing he would never believe without solid evidence.

_I'll get it_  she promised herself.  _When I finally confront Sidious, I'll make him confess. I'll record the entire conversation if I have to._

She wanted to help Maul…but as she remembered all of her conversations with Dooku, a burning curiosity began to grow in her heart. Maul was alive again. He could tell her what she meant to him, how he viewed her. Some of her questions had been answered due to growing up more and using common sense, but to have him personally answer her questions would rid her of a burden she had been carrying for years.

( _What would you have done if I refused you when you begged me to stay?)_

Harlene bit her lip, considering her options. Questioning him now would accomplish nothing. She needed to take the path she had taken with Aurra: don't make any plans, just be there to talk, touch and listen. Sidious wasn't around and that was the big ace up her sleeve. It would take a lot of time before they made real progress, but Harlene didn't care.

She shifted to indicate now was the time for her to go and could feel his reluctance as he released her. She turned around to say a proper goodbye and stopped cold at the pure intensity on his face. It didn't make her feel uncomfortable. His face was always intense, but for some reason…

His golden eyes flickered to her hair, then her face, then her neck before they settled on her eyes again. A flush crept up her cheeks.

"Maul…?"

He cupped her cheek briefly before running his fingers through her hair.

"I will await your return," his voice was very low. "Ensure that your absence is not prolonged."

It took a few seconds for Harlene to realize she was staring at his retreating back. She hadn't even noticed him turn away, it had been so fast. She teleported back to the true reality and watched the garden of lights that was Coruscant at night, trying to ignore the slight pounding of her heart.

"Harlene?"

Qui-Gon had materialized beside her but kept a respectful distance. "Forgive me, am I intruding?"

"No," Harlene shook her head and sat on the edge of the building, letting her feet dangle. "No, you're not."

Qui-Gon took a seat beside her but kept his gaze on the brilliant lights. "It is rather strange. Though you have no real connection to the Force, I have learned from it a great deal the impact you have had here."

"As far as what goes?"

"The bonds you have forged," he turned to look at her. "From what I understand, you have given love and hope to those who were living without it."

Harlene shrugged. "Wasn't my intention."

"But you are glad you did."

She smiled faintly. "Qui-Gon, I'm ecstatic that I did. And you might take notice that a majority of my companions are so-called mistakes of the infallible Jedi Order. And also notice that they were deemed mistakes because the infallible Jedi Order was too fucking lazy and dogmatic to put some effort into them and offer compassion and understanding. I did, and I found things that I can't even begin to describe. Have I erred?"

"You have done the exact opposite," Qui-Gon said. He sighed. "I also won't deny that your anger is justified."

"I gave the Jedi more chances than they deserved," Harlene said. "They only rarely tried to understand and when they did they never cared. You know what happened to Depa Billaba after she was sent to Haruun Kal. She was introduced to darkness she never knew existed and because she was kept in ignorance all her life she couldn't handle it. Now she's comatose. Probably forever," her voice grew bitter. "You know what Darth Traya said to the remaining Jedi Masters during the Mandalorian Wars? She said 'how could you ever hope to know the threat you face when you have never walked in the dark places of the galaxy, faced war and death on such a scale?'. Well, Mace Windu did and a fat lot of help it did him. But that's his own fault."

"You know about the Mandalorian Wars?"

"Yes. My mentor revealed to me the stories of how the Jedi handled Darth Revan and the Jedi Exile. It just goes to show that your Order was as dysfunctional and flawed four-thousand years ago as it is now."

"So are your companions," Qui-Gon pointed out. "Regardless of the sins of our Order, they made their choices. And from what I understand, you held and still hold contempt for them."

Harlene was silent for a moment before nodding.

"You left Jango Fett on your own free will."

She clenched her fist until her knuckles cracked.

"I was only half serious when I told Claire I would probably kill him after I saw the Clone Wars for myself," her eyes smoldered. "Now I'm deadly serious."

"What of Darth Maul? I was unable to ask you about him before, but if you are willing, I would like to know."

"You and half the universe," Harlene laughed. "I don't think I'll ever tell him how many times people have asked me about him. I wouldn't be able to stop myself from punching the smug smirk off his face," she paused. "Actually, the questions weren't flattering most of the time."

"What can you tell me?"

She told him everything she knew. Thankfully he was silent the entire time. It made it a lot easier.

"He doesn't care for me," she said bluntly after she was done.

"Perhaps not, but you do mean something to him. He was unable to enter the Queen's ship because of you. And now I know why he was so desperate to kill me."

"Well, Sith don't share after all."

Qui-Gon looked as if he wanted to choose his next words carefully.

"He said something to me after he stabbed me."

Harlene blinked.

"What?"

"As I fell, he hissed in my ear 'she won't be yours for long, Jedi'. Do you know what he meant?"

Harlene frowned. "I would like to say he wanted to gloat…but he's not the type. He almost never speaks as he fights. And he's not sadistic. He's satisfied with simply killing his opponents," she stared at her knees. "I guess I could ask him."

Qui-Gon smiled faintly. "He would be far from pleased that I am still able to communicate with you."

"Well, he'll just have to suck it up and deal with it, then," her tone softened. "I can understand his jealousy. I'm all he's got now. And he's all alone in that bubble when I'm away," a sudden thought occurred to her and she asked neutrally, "have you seen Dooku?"

Qui-Gon nodded. "I have. And for now I will only say that the Force teaches what one needs to learn."

"The Force doesn't have a will, Qui-Gon. It doesn't have a consciousness. It's not alive."

"But as you said, it maintains its balance well."

There was a long moment of companionable silence. Qui-Gon broke it.

"Have you truly forgiven Anakin?"

"Yes," it came out almost a whisper. "He doesn't love me unconditionally but I know he was genuinely sorry for hitting me."

"Is that the only reason you forgave him?"

"He could have been a good person. I blame him for his choices, not for his personality. He had excellent potential to be a good person, you know that. But the Jedi royally fucked him over."

"And that is why you hate Obi-Wan so," Qui-Gon said solemnly.

"Yes, but you're no saint either, Qui-Gon. You're a lot better than your comrades, but the only reason you tried to help Shmi and Anakin was because you thought Anakin was the Chosen One. You would have left them otherwise."

"I have never pretended to be perfect, Harlene, and I accept responsibility for my wrongdoings," now his voice was gravelly serious. "But sometimes you cannot categorize an action as specifically wrong or right. We had to get the Queen to Naboo, and even if Anakin hadn't been the Chosen One, I would have tried to free him and his mother in gratitude for their aid."

"You don't care about slaves, though."

"Harlene, the Jedi are guardians of the Republic—"

"Bullshit!" she snarled. "You settle fucking tax disputes and border disputes when you could do so much more! So what if the slaves aren't in the Republic!? They're still part of the Force! But no. The Jedi Order makes treaties with despotic slave trading Hutts only when they need something. Fuck all the innocent lives that are lost in the process! If they really cared, they would have killed Jabba and all leading crime lords. They don't have real armies; they employ mercenaries who wouldn't give a shit about their bosses so long as they got paid! What the fuck—" she stopped, took a deep breath and let it out. "No. I think I'll save my energy for the Jedi Council. You at least aren't in as deep denial as your friends," she gave him a knowing look. "You do know. You know what needs to be done and you know they deserve it. But you care for them. You don't want to see them suffer."

"I do not," Qui-Gon said. "And…you're correct. I can't deny what needs to be done. But no matter how much you despise them, you of all people should understand how I feel. Your friends have committed great evil and some hold no remorse for it."

"I'm not a self-righteous hypocrite, Qui-Gon. At least I try my hardest not to be. Jango deserved to die. Anakin deserves to die more for saying he would slaughter the Tusken Raiders again than for the actual deed. I can't say Grievous deserves to die because of what Dooku did to his mind. Maul and Aurra…they're the hardest to decide. I can't say for certain with them. And Kar deserves to die for treating his soldiers as expendable."

"He was also partially responsible for the death of one of your friends," Qui-Gon pointed out.

Harlene's throat tightened slightly as she remembered staying beside Liane as she was hit by that slug and pretending she hadn't noticed.

Both of them had pretended they hadn't noticed.

"She would have died anyway," Harlene said. "That's the main reason I was able to forgive him."

"Are you certain?"

Harlene's jaw clenched.

"No."

She felt a sudden warmth on her hand and saw Qui-Gon had placed his on hers.

"Don't ever regret compassion, Harlene. The darkness that surrounds us is far too vast as it is. We must spread our light as far as we can."

Harlene curled her fingers though they passed through his.

"The light will never consume the dark and vice versa. But they'll always be together. And that's why we can look at them and call them beautiful."

xXx

When the girl teleported away, Qui-Gon lingered and probed the Force-currents that had shifted around her. She was filled with anger and thirsted for vengeance. But those desires were perfectly compatible with her need to ease the pain of the people she cared for. These desires were utterly selfless. She did not care how much they cared for her in return. Or if they didn't care at all.

"Paradox," he murmured.

_But not always a balanced one._

Keeping his Force currents neutral would be futile. But Qui-Gon allowed his eyes to narrow.

"I have said before that I serve only the Force."

_And I've demonstrated that there are things greater than the Force when I enabled you to sense Harlene in it. Shall I demonstrate again?_

Qui-Gon had no desire to test this seemingly omnipotent being that had made its presence known a short while ago. But he still wanted to know if it was malevolent or benign. When he didn't answer it apparently assumed that Qui-Gon wanted another demonstration. Unable to control himself, he felt the realm of the Force pass through his spectral form. He would never be able to describe the sheer amount of power. Not even in the infinite sense. If he spent several eternities in the Force he would never feel this all on his own.

This being…it could bend the very fabric of the Force to its will.

It was greater than the Force. Much greater.

Qui-Gon found himself in a dimly lit yet very comfortable looking room with carved furniture and a fire place. He approached the tall, caped figure standing by the flickering flames.

"Hello, Master."

Dooku's cloak rustled softly as he turned around. The deeply troubled, haunted and angry mask that he had been wearing ever since he had arrived grew slightly warmer.

"Hello, Padawan. I am glad to see you again."

"The feeling is mutual," Qui-Gon took a step forward. "But I did not come here on my own free will."

"Oh?" the warmth vanished.

_You know for someone who has such an iron-clad grip on his emotions, you take things so fucking personally, Dooku._

Dooku blinked, astonished.

"What-?"

_Sit down. The both of you._

Dooku threw an incredulous, questioning look at Qui-Gon who simply shrugged. After they settled into two comfortable arm chairs, the voice spoke again.

_I've introduced myself to your Padawan, Dooku, but this includes you as well._

"What are you?" Dooku said in a hard voice. "I demand to know."

_Then shut up and let me talk._

Qui-Gon couldn't stop his lips from twitching at the scowl on his former Master's face.

_You and your Padawan still have a ton of catching up to do, Dooku, but this involves the both of you so I brought him here._

" _You_  brought him here?"

_That's what I said._

"That is impossible," Dooku said coldly. "For you to bring him here against his will, you would have to command the Force itself."

_Yes. I would._

Another half-incredulous half-questioning look was thrown Qui-Gon's way. He sighed and nodded.

"This…being…whatever it is…it can command the Force itself, Master. It is greater than the Force."

_I am a being that helps maintain the balance of the dimensions, particularly the one that the Error Correctors dwell in. A great shift is going to occur soon, one that will affect all the dimensions. But it will originate from the Error Corrector's. My duty is to help them prepare for it without upsetting the current and ongoing balance._

The frown on Dooku's face was deeply suspicious.

"By Error Correctors—do you really mean—?"

_Yes. You both know what Harlene really is, what her purpose is in your dimension._

"How ironic," Dooku said very dryly. "That her very presence and personal interference would cause her to correct an imbalance that would not be there otherwise. Skywalker would have obeyed Sidious alone when he ordered my execution. But the girl has already demonstrated that her irritating gift is especially effective when it comes to undisciplined, needy children."

_There's a saying in Harlene's dimension Dooku, about the pot calling the kettle black._

"I am no child."

_You're right. Your weaknesses are not so easily excused. Or redeemed._  When Dooku didn't reply, the voice continued.  _As I said, a great shift in balance will occur. It originates from a threat in Harlene's dimension. She will tell you about it when you next see her, Qui-Gon._

Suddenly Qui-Gon understood.

"You want me…" he glanced at Dooku. "Or perhaps even the both of us to offer Harlene guidance. She will play a major, if not  _the_  major role in this upcoming conflict."

_Yes._

"For good or for evil?"

_That depends on your point of view. But I'll say this at the very least: she will do everything in her power to protect those she loves._

Qui-Gon allowed himself to relax slightly. He still didn't completely trust this super-being, and his first allegiance was always to the Force. But his instincts told him he was not being deceived as far as the great upcoming conflict went.

"Is Harlene aware of you?"

_No. And it needs to stay that way for now. As I told Maul, if you try to tell her about me, I will stop you._

Dooku's eyebrows flew up. "Maul?"

_I brought him back from his unfortunate, premature demise. He's in a separate section of your dimension and is now in Harlene's care._

Several emotions flitted across Dooku's face. Disgust, contempt, disappointment. But then they all vanished to be replaced by satisfaction.

"Harlene is a young woman now. For her sake, I hope she remembers our discussions. But her stubbornness and blind faith remain as strong as ever. I only hope he shatters her illusions before permanent damage can be done."

Qui-Gon threw Dooku a confused, but not completely uncomprehending look.

"Master?"

Dooku merely smiled.

_I'm not asking for much, Qui-Gon_  the voice changed the subject.  _Just talk to her. Be there for her. Listen to what she has to say. Can you do that?_

"You may have noticed that is what I have been doing," Qui-Gon said with a hint of dryness.

_Then we won't have any problems. Now if you'll excuse me, I have business to attend to elsewhere._

"Wait," Dooku said. "Do you have an appellation?"

_Not yet._

"Not yet?"

_Hey, cut me some slack here! I've got a lot of stuff to do! I need free time to think of a name. You mortals get your names sometimes before you're born. I don't have that luxury. But when I think of something cool, I'll be sure to let you know._

There was silence afterwards and Qui-Gon knew they were alone now. When he finished chuckling he noticed that Dooku was avoiding his gaze. Sighing, he spoke.

"Why, Master?"

Dooku's wooden expression didn't twitch.

"Which 'why' do you mean, Padawan?"

"Whichever one you wish to tell me."

Dooku's hand gripped the arm of the chair to the point where his knuckles went white.

"Darth Maul may have stabbed you," his face remained impassive but his eyes began to smolder. "But it was the Jedi Council who killed you."

"Master—"

"They killed you," Dooku's head snapped around to fully face his former student. "If you deny it, then tell me why they did not send more Jedi with you and Obi-Wan when you went back to Naboo?"

Qui-Gon knew he could give a dozen excuses and a few of them did have some validity. But it would be in vain. Dooku would scoff…and yes. The Council could have sent more Jedi to assist him and Obi-Wan.

"I was meant to die, Master. The balance of the Force demanded it," his eyes narrowed. "But please do not insult me. We both know that you did not join the Sith simply because I died. You were in contact with them years before my death and had contemplated joining them. You would have joined them anyway. My death merely encouraged you to join them sooner."

"Perhaps I would have considered—"

"Don't you dare blame me!" Qui-Gon snapped so sharply that Dooku blinked. "I have said this to Harlene as well: whatever the flaws of the Jedi, you made your choices. No one forced you to do anything! You, Master, were so blinded by your insecurities and doubts that you thought everything you did would be justified so long as you believed you were doing it for the greater good. You slaughtered innocents merely to prove a point. You viewed your comrades as expendable tools. You would have ruled through fear and anyone who disagreed with you would have been killed. You were weaker than the Jedi Council could ever hope to be. Do you deny that?"

Dooku appeared mildly shocked at his former student's passion. Qui-Gon waited, expecting to hear a strong counter-argument. But when he answered, he looked older and wearier than Qui-Gon had ever seen him.

"If I am to find redemption in anything…then it shall be in my intentions."

"You are responsible for your actions, Master. And your failures."

Dooku stared at the floor in front of him.

"Perhaps I should have waited for the Republic to die. The fortune I inherited would have helped to assure to rise of a newer stronger government," he looked Qui-Gon in the eye. "But would the Council have welcomed the change? Or would they have held onto what was already lost until the galaxy was plunged into darkness?"

"I have already acknowledged that the Council is very flawed. Are you using them to justify yourself?"

"No. I am merely saying that my efforts, had they been different, would have been hindered by the Council."

Qui-Gon stared into Dooku's eyes for a long time. Finally he sighed.

"I don't believe you."

xXx

The sun was just setting on Ossus giving the air an even mustier smell than usual. Harlene watched the camp of the 44th Division and could tell that there would be a battle in a few days. The clone troopers were quieter than the other soldiers that consisted of various other species. They killed time mostly by cleaning their weapons and making sure the transports were in tip top shape. Harlene had learned a long time ago that she couldn't stand to get too attached to any of the clone troopers without suffering a breakdown, murdering Dooku or executing Order 66 all by herself. Her manner of speech was friendly to them but relatively formal when she entered the camp and made her way to the Major's quarters.

"Harlene. Hey. Harlene!"

She stopped and smiled at the young Nagai soldier approaching her.

"Hey, Dern. Is it just me or do I smell another battle?"

" _You_  smell another battle,  _I_ smell another victory," Dern Yessik grinned at her. "We've got the Seps on the run. Two more weeks and they'll kiss this planet goodbye forever. You heard about the Chancellor, right?"

"Yeah, he's safe, thank God," Harlene sighed for effect. "Do you know if Nick's available?"

Dern's smile fell a bit. "He should be. He debriefed us before you came in. But he may be giving a few last minute instructions to the snipers he's placing in the Caples Canyon," he paused then said. "Maybe while you're waiting for him, I could take you to my bunk. We could have a drink and I can tell you all about it."

The pointed look he gave her wasn't necessary for her to know that the invitation wasn't just a friendly gesture. Harlene had noticed that he had been looking at her a bit differently over the past three months during her visits, but she was always very reluctant to presume, even if she didn't do so out loud. Now that it was all but confirmed, Harlene found herself feeling flattered and nervous at the same time.

"Let's see if he's available first," she kept her voice perfectly even. "My bosses are keeping me on a very tight schedule right now and my visits here may be limited more than usual."

Dern's smile wasn't completely gone but the glimmer of disappointment and jealousy in his eyes was clearly visible.

"Yeah. Sure."

Maybe if it weren't for all the chaos being dumped into her life so suddenly, the guilt she felt wouldn't have been fleeting. But she had more important things to fret over than a young man's crush on her.

But that didn't mean she would play dumb. She had made a fool of herself plenty of times before due in large part to her childish naiveté. And though she and Dern weren't close friends, she didn't want to brush him off like he was nothing.

"Dern, I like you a lot, but I'm not interested in you in a romantic way."

He looked at her sharply, eyes wide. She met his gaze unflinchingly, her own eyes gentle and apologetic but serious.

"Well, you never were one to beat around the bush," he laughed and it sounded slightly bitter. "Don't you want to at least give me a chance?"

His tone wasn't sulky or accusing which made her feel more respect for him.

"If I did without feeling an attraction to you, then I would feel pressured and forced. What's more I would be disrespecting you and playing with your emotions. That's the last thing I want to do."

She locked her eyes with his, letting him see her honestly.

_(see him dance on your strings, child)_

He drew back a bit, blinking and she thought his eyes looked glassy.

"Yeah," he sounded dazed. "I know."

She said goodbye to him outside of the major's quarters and cautiously approached the entrance. A familiar voice could be heard inside.

"…gotta live up to our strategy  _and_  our names."

"Sir, I thought you said that our major strategy was to not have a strategy."

"Well, yeah, but c'mon, that has to be counted as a strategy, not having a strategy…oh, frag it, let's move on."

Harlene suppressed a smile as she listened to the young, dark-skinned, blue-eyed man giving orders to a squad of clone troopers. When he was done, he clapped his hands together and gave his men a brilliant, toothy grin.

"That's a wrap, boys. Go have a drink, pick at your guns and count sep heads as you fall asleep tonight, cause they're gonna be rollin' in three days time!"

The clone troopers saluted their major and exited his quarters. Harlene waited until they were all gone before entering herself.

"Battle in three days, huh?"

Nick Rostu looked up from the maps he was gathering and Harlene was subjected to the young Korun's traditional trademark grins.

"Hey!" his expression fell a bit. "Were you standing out there long?"

"Not long."

He gave an exasperated sigh. "Man, what is it with you and your obsession with kiddie manners? I said you could come in here whenever you wanted."

She grinned back and folded her arms. "What can I say? I'm a creature of habit."

Nick raised his eyebrows at her. "Kid," he said in an overly patient voice. "Get your backside in here."

"Where do you want the rest of me?"

Nick gave a groan of mock-agony and fisted his hands into his nearly shorn hair.

"Don't do this to me," he beseeched. "Don't make me lose what little of it I have left. You can't do that to me. You can't."

"Hmm," Harlene put a finger to her mouth and frowned.

Nick pulled tighter at his scalp.

"Please," he tried to sound on the verge of crying.  _"Please."_

Harlene gave a theatrical sigh and stepped inside. Nick's hands tore away from his head and he gasped in exaggerated relief. He then embraced Harlene tightly.

"Thank you. Thank you  _so fraggin' much."_

Harlene embraced him back and smirked.

"Well, you could never beat me in a battle of wits, so I guess it's only natural you would cheat by acting like a poor, wounded orphan."

"And you've fallen for it several times," Nick's voice was smug and not the least bit apologetic. "You just can't resist my devastating looks and fabulous charms."

"Actually, I was just humoring you," Harlene's voice was utterly casual. "And only because I felt like it. My bosses would have my head on a platter if I did anything to disrupt your combat prowess."

Nick groaned again.

"Can't you ever give me a break?" he whined.

"I wouldn't be me if I did."

"Nah, you wouldn't," he drew back and grinned. "Come on. Let's go have a drink."

He took her to his bunk and set up a table that was really just a stool. He poured himself a canteen of whiskey and Harlene a cup of caf. Harlene settled herself on a stool and took a drink. She never commented on how the caf was always too watery and bitter.

"So," Nick said after taking a swing of whisky. "What's new?"

Harlene's smile vanished to be replaced by a dark look.

"Harlene?" Nick was now deadly serious and concerned. "What is it?"

For the third time Harlene told her story. By the time she was done, Nick was stunned and pale.

"Fucking stang," he muttered emphatically. Despite the bleak atmosphere Harlene couldn't help but be amused at the way Nick picked up and adapted curse words.  _"Geez,_  I mean…"

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you yet," Harlene said staring at her cup. "You have enough—"

"Shut up," Nick snapped. Harlene was surprised at the amount of anger in his voice. "Shut your fraggin' mouth. Do you think I—Fraggin'  _hell_ , I'm a soldier in an intergalactic war! I may not see tomorrow or the next second, and I know that. And you know what? I'm  _still_  looking forward to a relaxing retirement, finding a wife, having kids and bouncing grandkids on my knee when I'm old, half-blind and wrinkly. I was looking forward to it on Haruun Kal and here even after Chalk—" he cut himself off and a spasm of pain crossed his face. He sighed, bowed his head and looked back up again. "I'm not single-minded. I never was. And no matter how much I lose I'll never stop looking for people to care about. And I'll never shun the people in front of me…no matter what they have to deal with or what they need. You know that. Why would you think otherwise?"

He looked genuinely hurt. He had never looked at her that way before and it was like a knife to her heart.

"Nick, I didn't mean it that way," she said quietly. "I would have told you eventually if not now. It involves you on more than one level—"

"Damn right," Nick said darkly. "Look, let's just stop this line of conversation now. I don't want both of us to go to bed crying."

Harlene laughed. "Neither do I."

After a few moments of comfortable silence and sipping drinks Nick spoke.

"Hey. When those Virus bastards come, just give me a call and we'll kick their asses together," he reached out and cupped her cheek. "This is my galaxy and I'm not gonna just sit back when it's in danger. And I'm not gonna let you fight alone. Promise me."

"I promise," Harlene said. "But I won't be alone regardless. I have my fellow Observers. And apart from you I have a few friends who said they'll help too."

Nick retracted his hand as an ominous shadow crossed his features. He took a large drink and all but slammed the canteen down. He wiped his mouth and didn't meet Harlene's eyes.

"How's Kar doing?"

Harlene's face went blank. It had taken Nick over a month to recover from the near-fatal injuries the Akk Guard Iolu had dealt him during the battle of Haruun Kal. Kar, despite having his hands nearly amputated by Mace Windu and suffering a large gash in his chest, had recovered in three weeks thanks in large part to his abnormally strong connection to the Force and had been immediately put on trial for 'crimes against civilization' for blasting the Balawai city Pelek Baw into oblivion. By the time Kar had been found guilty and carted off to the spice mines of Kessel, Harlene had promised to visit him and Nick was fully recovered. Once Nick had been informed of her promise, he had taken it as a betrayal both to himself and the Korun warrior Chalk aka Liane Trevval whom Nick had insisted would have survived if they had been able to take her to a medical center rather than trying to escape Kar's assassination attempt on him and Mace Windu.

Even to this day Harlene didn't have the heart to inform him otherwise.

At the end of their argument Nick had all but renounced their friendship, but never told her he never wanted to see her again. So Harlene kept coming back and after several stiff and cold visits, she told him of what Kar was suffering in Kessel, and while in her opinion it was more than he deserved, she was glad that he now knew what it was truly like to be looked down upon and be seen as expendable.

In truth he had known a long time ago. He had just forgotten.

Only after Harlene insisted that she was visiting him because she felt it was the right thing to do rather than out of pity or forgiveness did the barriers between her and Nick begin to fall. But this marked the first time in two years that the subject of Kar was brought up between them.

Harlene stared at the rip of her mug. Her voice was cool and even as she answered.

"You will be very pleased to hear that the Colicoids still keep him from eating for weeks and dehydrate him until he's unconscious. The monthly beatings are severe enough where he can't even make it to the toilet for days. The temperature in his cell sometimes drops to twenty-five degrees Fahrenheit and exposure to the pure darkness of Kessel gets only more traumatizing over time. Oh, and the energy spiders attack the area he works in at least once every five days."

Harlene took a sip of caf and kept her eyes on the table in front of her, ignoring Nick. After a long and very tense silence Nick muttered his reply.

"Good."

Now Harlene looked up at him with raised eyebrows.

"You don't sound as enthusiastic as last time."

Nick glared at her.

"Chalk's dead. Nothing's gonna bring her back, and making myself sick over what could have been if she'd lived won't do me any good. I learned to look ahead a long time ago. It was either that or go batshit crazy."

"Same here," Harlene put down her mug and folded her arms. "I owe her a lot."

"And vice versa," Nick said. "I always wished I could do something for her after those Balawai fuckers…" he shook his head. "But you're the one who really understands that. I mean from a woman's point of view."

"I wasn't gang-raped unlike her, but I know what you mean," Harlene said. "I accepted my pain, but I allowed it to control me. I couldn't suppress it or else I would be crazier than I am now. What I needed was to accept it and make peace with it. I still haven't made peace with it, but thanks to Liane and my friends, I'm well on my way to."

"That's good. But getting back to what we were talking about before," his eyes narrowed. "Have you told Kar about the Virus Creed?"

"I have."

"You told him before you told  _me?"_

"Nick," Harlene gave him a very dry look. "Don't go there."

Nick sulked for a few seconds.

"What was his reaction?"

"He said he'll do anything he can to help me."

Nick laughed loudly.

"Oh, now  _that's_  fraggin' hilarious. And I'm not talking about him trying to help you while he's rotting in a prison cell. Back on Haruun Kal you got on his nerves more than Mace did."

"Such memories are still very satisfying and fond," Harlene said. "But as I said to you before, Kar has once again learned how it feels to be treated in a way that makes scum look as valuable as thyssl bark. Along with that, he's learned the value of human companionship."

Nick downed the rest of his whisky and set the canteen down but didn't let go of it. Eventually he drew his hand back and sighed.

"When those Virus bastards come…I'll fight with you. Alongside him if I have to. But don't expect me to be happy about it. And if he tries anything—"

"If he mocks you or disrespects you or tries to hurt you,  _I'll_  deal with him," Harlene promised. She smiled softly. "But thanks for making an effort. It means a lot to me."

She had to suppress a grin when Nick's face flushed and he stammered out a reply.

"Yeah, sure, whatever. Um…ya want another cup of caf?"

After Harlene said good-bye to Nick, she breathed a sigh of relief that he was at least trying to put aside personal grudges in order to serve the greater good. Harlene would too, but it would be a lot more difficult for her. Especially if said grudge involved the death of someone she had been in love with.

But ever since reading  _Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor_ , she had been filled with confusion and curiosity. What  _had_ happened between Nick and Kar that decades after Haruun Kal, they would end up as supposed friends and consider the other family?

Well, they would be the last of the Korunnai for one thing. Palpatine would order the extermination of all Korunnai once the Empire was established. While they may live in a relatively primitive environment, they were all Force-sensitive. In a few years time, Nick and Kar would be the last of their kind. But the details of how they ended up together were extremely vague. Nick's future girlfriend Aeona Cantor had mentioned something about Kessel and Nar Shadaa, but all Harlene knew was that Cantor believed Kar deserved to die for incidents related to those places.

But if the Virus Creed decided to attack her reality before then, those events wouldn't even occur…

Harlene shook her head and stopped her line of thought before teleporting to Coruscant. Using her comm she located Anakin. It said that he was on a transport heading towards the Jedi Temple.

He was back from his first turning point meeting with Palpatine.

Harlene ignored the various Jedi milling about and waited for the transport to land. When it did, Anakin disembarked and froze when he saw her. Like her, he ignored those around him and swiftly went up to her. She could tell he had barely slept over the past week. His eyes were shadowed and red and filled with a torturous pain. He put his hands on her shoulders. His grip was hard and desperate.

" _Harlene…"_

She put her hands gently on his arms. A spasm crossed his face and he embraced her hard. When it was over, she squeezed his hand, her eyes filled with gentle sympathy.

"Let's go to your quarters."

Anakin nodded and led the way. Their little display had garnered a bit of attention and Harlene took substantial pleasure in giving several Knights and even some Masters death glares. But she was grateful that they didn't run into Obi-Wan or another bastard Council member. Once the door was shut Anakin all but fell onto his bed, his head in his hands. Harlene sat beside him and put a hand on his back but didn't press him.

"Just breathe," she said soothingly.

He did. When he looked up, his eyes were filled with pain and gratitude. Harlene took his mechanical hand in hers and waited.

He didn't meet her eyes when he spoke.

"Padme's pregnant," before she could give congratulations he continued. "And she's going to die in childbirth."

"You had a vision?"

"In my dreams," he clarified. "Like the ones I had about my mother dying."

"Are there any specific details?"

"No. All I know is that she's going to die in childbirth," he bared his teeth and gripped his knee. "But it won't come true. I won't let it."

Harlene bit her lip and stared at the floor.

"You know I'd help if I could."

"I know. I don't blame you at all. I made that mistake once before," old but deep remorse was on his face as the thumb of his flesh hand brushed her left cheek with such tenderness that her throat tightened. "I'll never make it again."

Neither spoke for a while. When Anakin broke the silence his voice was hard and his jaw was clenched.

"I asked Yoda for help. As vaguely as I could. You know what he said? He said that I need to train myself to let go of what I fear to lose. That I should  _rejoice_  for when someone I love  _dies_ and that I shouldn't miss or mourn them."

Harlene was well aware of what Yoda had told Anakin in response to his dreams. But having Anakin repeat them back and seeing his agony over a potential loss made her raise her barriers lest she storm that little green freak's meditation room and skin him alive with her sword. Her temples throbbed slightly in response. It was slightly painful to use her barriers now, but the pain was more than manageable. And the neurologist she visited every month still couldn't detect any anomaly.

"Heartless bastard," she muttered.

Anakin blinked, astonished. Then he laughed.

"Oh, I can only imagine how he would react if you said that to his face."

"If I say anything bad to his face, Anakin, you can be rest assured it'll be ten times worse than that."

Anakin laughed again but the atmosphere didn't stay light for long.

"I just don't know what to do," he said. "This dream won't come true. I won't let it. But where should I start?"

"I may have no personal experience with the Force, but I know that prophecies are always vague, and they never say how the particular event will happen. But you know what's going to happen so you can be on better alert. Since you have no direct leads right now, my advice would be to keep your senses attuned for when something comes up."

"That's it? Just wait?"

"You have a better idea? Padme's perfectly healthy and going about her life now, right?"

"Yeah, but—"

"And the last time you had sex was five months ago, so it's gonna be four more months before Padme has to give birth, right?"

"…how did you-?"

"Anakin," she gave him a patronizing look. "You were in the Outer Rim for five months. Before that you were away from Padme for two months and she would have known and told you before you left for five months if she was pregnant. And babies stay in the mommy's womb for nine months before they come out. It's pre-school mathematics."

Anakin was blushing slightly but he gave a curt nod.

"Good. So she dies in childbirth. Did you see any physical injuries on her in the vision?"

"No…"

"Then you use process of elimination. Either she dies from some kind of internal injury while giving birth or she'll suffer from some severe emotional trauma that makes the stress of childbirth too much for her body to handle."  _Because she's a weak, cowardly piece of shit_  Harlene added inwardly.

"Emotional trauma?" Anakin looked at her intently. "What kind of emotional trauma?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. But that and an internal injury are the only options if she wasn't physically injured. Did she say anything in the vision?"

Anakin nodded, his eyes haunted. "She was screaming. Screaming and begging. For  _me._  She kept saying that she was sorry. And that she loved me." He choked on the last sentence and squeezed his eyes shut. He turned his head away but Harlene already saw his tears.

"Hey," she reached over to cup his cheek. "Anakin, you don't ever have to hide from me. I'm here for you. I'll always be here."

He didn't face her, but his hand gripped the one over his face. Harlene gave a small gasp when all of a sudden he threw his arms around her.

"I know," his voice was muffled and not just because his face was pressed against her neck. "I know."

Love and protectiveness welled up in Harlene as her hands stroked his hair and back.

_They'll pay for what they did to you. Every single one of them._

When they pulled apart, Harlene's thumbs tenderly brushed the wet tracks on his cheeks.

"If Padme was screaming for you," she whispered. "Then maybe something bad will happen to  _you_ before she gives birth. Maybe  _you'll_  die and if Padme was apologizing, then maybe she feels responsible somehow."

Anakin's eyes went wide.

"That's…" he mumbled. "That could be it…"

"Talk to her, then," Harlene said. "For a while. Make sure she knows that no matter what happens to you, you'll never blame her. It will never be her fault."

Numbly, Anakin nodded and there was new light in his eyes. They weren't as awash with despair as they had been before.

"I will," he promised. "I could  _never_ hate her. I could never blame her for  _anything."_

"I'm not saying that's the answer," Harlene cautioned. "I could be completely wrong. It could still be an internal injury or some other emotional stress."

"I know," the light drained a bit. "But if I talk to her and reassure her…then we can eliminate the third possibility."

Harlene smiled. "Good."

He looked at her and the gratitude he was radiating nearly made her draw back. He cupped her face with his hands and put his face close to hers.

"Thank you. Thank you  _so much."_

Her own hands came up to cup his face.

"Always, my brother."

xXx

While Maul intended to keep his promise to Harlene of avoiding the ends of the bubble, that did not mean he would stay in the same place the entire time. On the morning of the fourth day of her absence, he donned his cloak, mounted his speeder bike the  _Bloodfin_  and set out to explore. But before he left he made sure to leave a datapad behind that informed Harlene where he was going if she arrived today. While he was near-certain that she would be able to find him wherever he was on her own, he still didn't trust the motivations of the unnamed powerful being that had brought him here. Harlene would have more difficulty finding him if it decided to disable her powers.

The hum of the  _Bloodfin's_  engines echoed off the deathly silent walls of the buildings surrounding him. During the ride, Maul reached into the Force to search for anomalies or other life forms and found none. That was fine with him. The only being whose presence would be welcome here was Harlene's.

When he arrived at his destination, he was pleased to see that the security systems he had placed on this particular building were still intact. He dismounted the  _Bloodfin_  and punched in the codes on the door. It opened revealing an entrance to a lift. Maul punched in basement and took the lift down. Upon stepping out he was greeted by the sight of his private work station. Years ago Lord Sidious had given him schematics, a substantial account and this facility in which to construct the mechanical devices necessary for his training and assignments. It was here that he constructed his lightsabers, dark eye probe droids and made modifications to the _Bloodfin._  He took a moment to savor the familiar taste of the dark side that resided here before checking to make sure everything was in place. When he saw it was he proceeded to construct another dark eye. He had met his unfortunate but well-deserved demise before replacing the one he had destroyed in a fit of rage on Tatooine. It would be convenient for him to do so now.

Several hours into the project, he had become so absorbed in it that he didn't hear the nearly inaudible footsteps to his right.

"Maul?"

He looked up and saw Harlene holding up a datapad.

"I got your message."

He stared at her appraisingly.

"Would you have been able to locate me without it?"

"Yeah, but remember, unstable bubbles can be fickle," she walked up to him and placed the datapad on the table. "I wanted to make sure you weren't at the Works before coming here."

Maul glanced at his current project, then back at Harlene and decided he would return to it later.

Harlene caught his motion.

"Am I interrupting?"

"No," he replied. "One of my dark eyes was destroyed a while ago. They are valuable for infiltration. I deemed it necessary to build another one. But it can wait until you are gone."

He made to retrieve his cloak but stopped when he saw Harlene staring at the emerging droid with extreme interest.

"Dark eyes," she murmured. "Aren't those the droids you used to track the Jedi on Tatooine?"

His face darkened but nodded in response to her question. Harlene reached out a hand to the device.

"May I?"

At his nod, she lifted it carefully and scrutinized it. Her eyes were filled with awe and wonder.

"Wow," she whispered. "This is incredible."

Even as pride and smugness surged through him, he still said, "It is not finished yet."

"It's still incredible," she insisted.

Maul smirked. "I take it technology is not as advanced in your dimension?"

"No," she responded. "Not like this. My people may be able to travel to different dimensions, but we haven't achieved faster than light space travel yet and we probably won't for another few hundred years. If I ever brought home something like one of your dark eyes, people would be gaping at it worse than I am."

"I sincerely hope you aren't trying to flatter me."

"I'm just stating facts. Besides, it's not as if you need me to stroke your ego for you. You do that well enough on your own."

She ignored his scowl and continued to examine the device.

"This is the AI chip right?"

Maul peered at where she was pointing.

"It is."

"For low level sentience?"

He frowned suspiciously.

"You said this technology is unfamiliar to you."

"Not completely," she peered deeply inside and her voice sounded distracted. "Anakin taught me a bit about droid technology. The boy's an absolute genius when it comes to machines. One of his favorite hobbies when he was little was repairing broken droids that nobody wanted. It was inevitable that I would pick up a few things."

She stopped abruptly and the look on her face betrayed that she hadn't meant to reveal so much.

A snarl welling up in his throat, Maul snatched the droid from Harlene's hands and set it down so roughly that he nearly damaged it. Harlene gave him a look of disgust but he ignored it.

"Clearly you did not pick up enough," he said curtly. "Such knowledge is valuable. Come. I will educate you in these matters."

Harlene's brow raised and she backed away a bit. "No, thanks Maul."

"Do not be idiotic," he grabbed her arm and pulled her forward. "Sessions such as this will be part of the training I am giving you from now on."

He was half-expecting the sharp spike of pain up his arm, but in his rage he didn't care. Still, he released her when it happened.

Harlene backed away further, eyes narrowed.

"That's very generous of you, Maul," her voice was icy. "But I don't appreciate your ulterior motives."

Maul bared his teeth and advanced on her.

"I wish to teach you the proper methods of mechanics."

"No, the only thing you  _wish_  to do is one-up the Jedi. Were you lying before?"

"What are you talking about?"

"You said you didn't care that I didn't leave the Jedi so long as I stayed with you," she folded her arms and pierced him with a pointed look. "Were you lying?"

_No, it is your feelings for the Jedi, your blindness that fuels my desire to destroy them all, to crush their Temple. It is their fault that you cannot be truly mine. But I cannot prevent you from going to them. I could not when you left me on Tatooine. It is because of you that I nearly—_

He stopped that line of thought. That utterly  _treacherous_  line of thought that he had buried in his subconscious after Harlene agreed to stay with him, no conditions. The thought that had haunted him during her absence after Tatooine, the thought that had been such a contradiction to his purpose and his desires before she had come into his life that it had been a physical pain.

Maul clenched his fists and jaw, willing himself to forget. He had to forget or else it could drive him insane as effectively as his nightmares could.

The contempt in Harlene's face suddenly melted away. She sighed and lowered her arms.

"Okay, Maul, I want to make a few things clear: I respect you, I admire you (to a limited extent), I care about you, and I'd do just about anything for you. But letting you run my life does not fall into that category. Not that you'd ever want it to," she added with a shrug.

It took a moment for her previous words to sink in before he fully comprehended that last sentence.

"If you say that, then you do not know me as well as you thought you did," he said coldly. "I would never wish you as my slave, but if your life belonged to me there are countless things I would have you do and I would expect instant obedience."

Harlene shifted to the right in a casual manner. The movement parted her cloak and before Maul could stop himself, his gaze lingered on the way the dip of her waist melded with the flare of her hip.

"Bullshit," she said.

He had heard her use that word a few times and though he didn't know its exact meaning, he had a decent idea. And it enraged him.

"Are you attempting to antagonize me or are you simply being disingenuous?" he spat.

"I'm being factual," she replied. "And I do know you even better than you know yourself. I know that you are beyond famous for deluding yourself," it was taking everything he had not to attack her and she sighed, exasperated and rolled her eyes. "Oh, come  _on,_  Maul. Admit it. You would hate it if I did everything you said without question. You can't stand it when things are too easy for you, especially when it comes to things you enjoy. When you go on an assassination assignment your target  _has_  to be skilled and give you a good chase. My bosses showed me some clips of you hunting Lorn Pavan and I lost count of how many times you stopped to sulk that the assignment was too easy. It was only after he started to give you a good chase and when two Jedi became involved that you began to enjoy it. You love killing Jedi but you would never kill a helpless one if you could help it. You have to be challenged or else you're not satisfied," her voice grew more quiet. "And the same goes with me. I have my own mind, I make my own decisions, I fight tooth and nail when anyone dares to impede on my free will…and you never would have wanted me if I didn't," a slight smile curled her mouth. "In fact, I'll make a little wager with you: if I ever find it in me to do exactly as you say twenty-four seven, it would drive you crazy. You would beg me to go back to being the way I was in one week."

Maul's gaze pierced hers in a battle of wills. Neither backed down, but it was Maul who spoke first.

"If you wish. What do you offer if you lose, and what do you ask for if you win?"

Harlene leaned her hip against the table and pursed her lips in consideration.

"I guess winning's enough for me," she decided. "I don't need or want anything from you that you're not already giving," she met his eyes. "What about you?"

There was a peculiar smile on her face that enhanced the red lights of the surrounding machines reflecting off of her smooth, black eyes. The way she was leaning left her cloak parted enough so that the left side of her jumpsuit clad body was completely visible and made the curve of her hip all the more prominent. Her smell wafted his nostrils. The desire to touch her was so great that he could barely control himself.

"Maul?"

The mischievousness was gone. She looked almost uneasy. Maul crossed the distance between them and embraced her, taking several deep breaths into her hair. When her arms came up, his blood started to feel warm in an unusual way but he ignored it.

"I can tolerate your feelings for the Jedi. As I said, your feelings for them fuel my hatred," he threaded his gloved fingers through her locks. "So long as you keep your promise, then I need nothing else from you."

"And that I let you hug me and hug you in turn," the mischievousness was back.

"I prefer," Maul said through clenched teeth. "To use the term 'embrace'."

"Yes, Lord Maul. As you wish."

Despite his next words, he was well aware of the hint of sarcasm in what she had said.

"You have not called me that in quite some time."

Brief pause. "You're right. I haven't. Just as this marks the first time you've outwardly acknowledged it. Problem?"

"No," Maul replied. "The respect you have for me is sufficient. Honorifics are not necessary."

"Yeah. And we've become a bit too familiar for them, wouldn't you agree?"

"Hmm," Maul nuzzled her neck. "Yes."

She leaned more deeply into him. "I'm keeping my promise. Don't be afraid."

Maul stiffened.

"Fear is my ally. It allows me to unlock the vastness of the dark side."

"Yeah. And you hate it."

He didn't let go of her but drew back enough to glare at her.

"Do not speak of things you do not understand."

"There you go deluding yourself again. If fear is your ally, then why did you run up to me the last time and allowed me to ease it?"

He released her as fast as he did when she shocked him with her electricity. He backed away a step. His teeth were bared and his eyes blazed with fury. In contrast her eyes were soft with sympathy.

"Maul, you have nothing to be ashamed of, especially with everything you've been through, everything you've lost. If you weren't afraid you'd be insane," his voice hardened a bit. "But you'll never master your fear if you keep on deluding yourself."

"Really?" Scorn and sarcasm dripped from his tone. "Since you are clearly such an expert on my emotions and thoughts, perhaps you can enlighten me. What delusions shall I rid myself of?"

"Well, for starters, you could deal with your fears better if you were more mature," Harlene said unfazed and very serious. "Sidious told you that fear can make your strong and powerful. But when you think about what you've lost and what you could lose, can you channel that fear? Does it make you feel strong and powerful or does it make you feel helpless, confused and frustrated?"

Maul abruptly turned away from her and began pacing furiously. The nightmares still haunted his sleep, but he would never tell Harlene about them.

"It is a weakness I must master," he stated harshly. "No fear cannot be channeled."

Harlene sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. "My God, you are such a child."

He ceased his movement, head snapping around to face her.

" _What?"_

"I said you're a child," she snapped. "Every time I present to you a perfectly logical argument, you shoot it down not because it doesn't have merit, but because you don't like it. That's not the behavior of an adult, Maul."

"Don't lecture me, you—"

"Okay, I'll break it down even further: you exhibit all the mental qualities of a child. Your greatest fear is abandonment. You were utterly dependant on Sidious for purpose. Being completely on your own was something that never crossed your mind until now. You would do anything for Sidious's approval. And don't feed me any bullshit about how all you care about is serving Sidious. You craved his approval. And you really hate being alone."

Maul snarled. "I was perfectly content with my solitude my entire previous life."

"Yeah. Before I came along and fucked everything up, huh?"

Maul didn't answer. He just stared at her, fists clenched and breathing hard. But her face wasn't mocking or condemning. It was…

…beseeching?

When she came up to him, he didn't move even when she touched his face.

"Maul, please listen to me. I am not scorning you, I am not condemning you, and I take no pleasure whatsoever in your pain. I said to you last time that I want to help you…the way you helped me," her stare grew more intense. "You were right about a lot of things, and I was wrong. I am not proud of certain qualities I had back then, and I'm glad that I changed for the better. But even if I thought I was in the right, I was still willing to listen to what you had to say and I offered my own thoughts and opinions. I shot you down not because I didn't like what you said. I dismissed you because I thought you were wrong. And if I dismissed you because I was afraid of the truth…then it's my own failing, my own weakness. I beg of you, don't make the same mistakes I did. Admitting your ignorance is one of the strongest things you can do. And there is no shame in asking for help or advice if you're unsure."

The silence that fell between them once Harlene had finished speaking held no tension or malice. Maul's hand came up to grasp the one resting on his cheek.

"I am not uncertain of the future," he said at length. "But this fear…it is unlike anything I have ever felt. It claws at my mind. I begin to lose sense of myself. The vastness is so great."

"Vastness?" she said softly. "You mean emptiness?"

He nodded.

"I am dead to my Master. He has replaced me. The Jedi will be slaughtered by another. But in that knowledge lies…emptiness. It is cloying. Suffocating. If I attempt to channel it, it only worsens."

"The emptiness your past purpose left behind," Harlene said. "That's what you're afraid of?"

He couldn't meet her eyes.

"Yes," he whispered.

"You don't know what you are without that purpose."

"I am still Sith," he insisted harshly. "Nothing will change that. But before I was Sith and served a purpose that is now dead and has left behind a void filled with emptiness."

Harlene put a hand on his chest where his hearts dwelled.

"Wounds like that don't heal easily. But you've acknowledged what it is. That's the first and probably most vital step."

Maul gently grasped her arm. "What would you have me do?"  _I will serve you one day. I wish to be strong for you._

She considered the question. "You said you weren't uncertain of the future. Does that have anything to do with me?"

His eyes narrowed.

"It has  _everything_  to do with you."

"Well, then just know that you aren't alone," she said. "I'm here for you, and I'll help you find whatever it is you need to find."

He stared at her for a while before embracing her again. He savored the relief from the void the contact granted him. She eased the emptiness and because of her he would be free of it forever someday. She fed his hatred. She fed his strength.

_There is no pain where strength lies._

When they broke apart, Maul walked over to where the emerging dark eye lay.

"Harlene?"

"Yes?"

"I wish to continue building this droid. It would…honor me if you allowed me to show you how I accomplish the task."

Sheer shock graced her features but it was gone as quickly as it came. She approached him and smiled.

"And I would be honored to learn from you."

Maul nodded and proceeded to explain. Three hours later he decided to save the rest for when Harlene came back again and said that they should return to the Works to fence and practice Teras Kasi.

"I'm probably going to be sorry for saying this," Harlene said heavily as Maul put on his cloak. "But I know I'll end up learning more about droid structure from you than from Anakin."

Maul didn't hide his smirk. "Indeed?"

"Anakin's a good teacher," she continued. "But there are several things about him that I can't stand."

"You mentioned them last time," Maul pointed out.

"Yeah, but I left the most loathsome thing out."

"Which is?"

Harlene grimaced.

"He has…a  _Padawan,"_  she spat the word like a curse. "One of the most annoying, arrogant little shitbags I've ever met in my life. I mean you should have  _heard_  some of the things that came out of her mouth. If Anakin tried to correct her and ask her why she doesn't listen to him…" Harlene put on a mocking high-pitched voice, "'Don't yell at me Skyguy! If I can't do it right then that's your fault, not mine. I'm the  _Padawan,_  you're the  _Master_ , I'm not supposed to  _know_  everything yet!'. Good, God! If I had said something like that to Claire during our training sessions, she would have thrown me ass over head against the wall. Twenty times!"

"If I had something like that to Lord Sidious," Maul was having difficulty speaking due to his incredulity and outrage. "He would have made certain the last moments of my life would be the most painful I have ever experienced."

"Well," Harlene shrugged and smirked. "Thankfully, we're not like that at all."

For some reason the emptiness within him eased further, and his lips curled slightly upward.

"Indeed."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Times they are a-changin" lyrics belong to Bob Dylan.


	7. Chapter 7

 

"… **it is just me or did Qui-Gon Jinn speak to thin air?"**

"' **I have said before that I serve only the Force'. I would be a fool if I thought he would say something like that to Dooku or any other spirit of the Force."**

" **It's not harmful in any way. It's just so…weird."**

" **Maybe it's a glitch, but I'll investigate later to make sure the reality isn't malfunctioning."**

" **Yet another thing that must be crammed into your busy schedule. Harlene's coming out in a few hours, right?"**

" **Yes. It's time for her training to take a step up."**

" **Bland understatement."**

" **Make sure to catch the six-o'clock news in eight days."**

" **I will. The bastards will never know what hit them."**

" **I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your information. I'll make sure the President knows so his old bones don't pop from stress."**

" **Your bones would be the ones popping if I didn't give you the information."**

" **Thank you for the reminder."**

xXx

Harlene's footsteps echoed through the virtual dojo. Her eyes scanned the pale, cream-colored walls and the racks of various weapons propped up against them. She reached out with her senses. They told her she was completely alone.

Harlene lifted a hand to her neck and began to pull her cloak off. Her arm moved at casual speed which progressed to faster-than-the-eye could follow speed. As her cloak was spinning through the air, Harlene unleashed her sword, spun around and blocked the slash that would have decapitated her.

"That was a bit too slow, Harlene," Claire's voice was very calm even as she attempted to force her student back. "An intelligent opponent would have guessed you were on to them."

"I'll make sure to do better next time," Harlene said before turning her mentor's blade over, spin-jumping and snapping her leg out.

Claire back-rolled, landed on her feet in a crouched position and shot fire from her hand. It wasn't a straight blast, but hundreds upon hundreds of individual ones, like a barrage of bullets. Harlene knew if she tried to block them now, she was done for. She shot off to the right and ran up the wall. She swung her sword behind her when her psychic senses whispered a warning. A few of the fire-bullets vanished but not nearly enough. The ceiling was getting closer. From experience, she knew if she pushed off with her feet and flipped backwards, the bullets would collect near the ground to "catch" her fall. She changed her direction sharply to the left. As she ran she focused her power. From her right hand, a snake of electricity began to wind itself around her body in a protective shell. Harlene turned left again and once she was on the floor, near the middle of the arena she whirled around and focused. Her eyes glowed a brilliant blue with the effort. Nearly two-thirds of the bullets met their end from the electricity but she could feel a slight pain building up in her head with the effort to keep the electrical shield as strong as it was. If she continued like this, her brain would start bleeding.

Harlene dropped the shield and began a one-woman swords dance, moving her blade with lethal precision and cutting through the fire bullets. Each strike had to cause a wind strong enough to dissipate the fire. Harlene savored the power flowing through her body as she moved at speeds her normal body could never hope to reach but at the same time kept on red alert. Giving herself over to battle would be fatal to her, especially since her opponent was not the fire bullets, but the most dangerous one she could ever face.

There were less than one hundred left when Harlene sensed a different movement behind her. She flipped backwards just as Claire was about to run her sword through her spine. Harlene made certain her blade was right in front of her crouched body as she landed on her feet. She spun, took down ten more fire bullets and engaged her mentor in one-on-one combat. Skilled and powerful as she had become it took everything she had to keep both Claire and the fire bullets at bay. When the fire bullets had reduced to about twenty, one shot straight through her shoulder. If Harlene were still at Fledgling level she would have been done for, but with time and training, her virtual body had become far more resistant. She grimaced against the pain but continued to fight. Fifteen minutes after all the fire bullets were gone Claire leaped back and threw her sword aside. She took a Capoeira stance. Harlene threw her own sword aside and copied the movement.

But her mentor smiled.

"You may wish you hadn't done that."

Before Harlene could ask what she meant, fire engulfed Claire's hands. But it didn't look like her regular fire. It looked far more powerful. As if the fire was enhanced by Claire's internal psionic energy. The same exact flames exploded beneath Claire's heels.

Harlene was stunned. How could Claire hold her power in specific parts of her body for so long without hurting herself? If Harlene tried that, her own electricity would turn her hands and feet to ash!

Claire shot toward her like a bullet. Harlene couldn't think of doing anything except ducking when a flaming fist was sent her way. If she tried to physically block it, it would incinerate her arm. Claire stuck to traditional kung fu for a few moments but then switched to master-level Capoeira gymnastics that Harlene was only beginning to get the hang of.

Harlene still couldn't do anything except duck but she kept her eyes scanning for an opening. The first one she saw was a thin chance but beggars couldn't be choosers. Focusing electricity in her fist, she aimed the blow at Claire's knee.

Her eyes went wide went Claire's fist connected with Harlene's. The collision of power caused a loud cracking sound. Claire's fire engulfed Harlene's electricity as if it were nothing and then proceeded to devour her arm. Harlene screamed as agony ripped through the nerves of the limb. One telekinetic blast later, she was knocked on her back, gritting her teeth to fight unconsciousness. From a distance she felt a hand gently lift her upper body up. The pain began to lessen and five seconds later it was completely gone. Pale and breathing hard, Harlene looked down at her right arm which moments ago had been reduced to charred, bloody remains then up at Claire who was still supporting her.

"What the fuck was that?" her voice was weak but the sheer incredulity in it was audible.

Claire smiled ironically.

"Did you think only the Virus Creed experiments with the interface?" she helped Harlene to her feet. "I'm a scientist as well as a warrior, apprentice. I enjoy pushing things to the limit and discovering what results I'll get."

"Well, that's fine, but you're not answering my question," Harlene said.

Claire smiled again. "It's a weapon that I've been developing for years: a style of hand-to-hand-combat that only people highly experienced with the interface can learn. I combine the raw, psi energies that all of our powers come from and combine it with my chosen psi power. When I channel it to my hands and feet, my opponent whether they're fighting with their fists or their sword can't physically block me without being injured. And if they use their chosen psi power close range or long range, it can be absorbed or blocked quite easily."

Harlene was gobsmacked. With something like that, Claire would be unstoppable. No virtual warrior could ever hope to stand against her.

"Why haven't you told me of this before?"

"It was a hobby at first," Claire said. "It wouldn't be needed for an Error Corrector to do their job well. Besides, Harlene, the physical pain I went through to perfect it is beyond your wildest imagination. If I taught it to someone they wouldn't suffer as much since I was able to find milder routes through my experiments, but it would still be nothing short of hell."

"Power always comes at a price," Harlene muttered. "Is this what you're going to teach me?"

"First I'm going to ask if you want to learn it."

"If it will help me protect what I love, then yes," she responded fiercely.

Claire nodded. "Very well."

"What about the others?" Harlene asked. "Have you shared this with the Founders and the First Twenty-five?"

"I have," Claire said. "The Founders were understandably uncomfortable, but as long as we, the First made certain that learning it wouldn't cause emotional trauma, they gave us full permission to teach it to anyone who wanted to learn. Years ago I made training modules to document my progress and let members of the First have access to them. Nearly all of them have been practicing it since. None of them are at my level yet, but they know more than enough to teach their apprentices. You, Harlene, are going to be my first personal student."

Harlene shrugged. "That changes nothing. When do we start?"

"Right now," Claire said. "The first steps aren't painful. That comes later."

"Oh, joy," Harlene said unemotionally.

"Sit down," Claire said. "Take a meditative position."

Harlene obeyed.

"Close your eyes and concentrate on the raw psi energy in your body. Feel it flow through you. When you get a good sense of it, start calling it forth. When you feel you can, channel it into your hands and feet," she heard Claire turn away. "I'll leave you to it for a few hours. When I come back we're going to practice more advanced Capoeira moves and flexibility. The swordplay we did is enough since you're getting good practice and lessons from Maul. By the way before I go, how are things between the two of you?"

Harlene gave her a brief overview.

"He hasn't shown any signs of going crazy, thank God. And when I calm him down he makes a pretty good effort to act more mature," she smiled. "I think with time he'll be all right. He likes to hug me a lot so at least Sidious didn't turn him into a masochist or anything."

"He likes to hug you?" Claire said with a raised eyebrow.

"All the time. Although he  _prefers_ ," she adopted a snooty exaggerated voice. "That I use the term ' _embrace'._ "

Claire laughed and shook her head. "Well, just keep doing what you're doing, Harlene. If anyone can help him it's you."

xXx

Aurra Sing's eyes were narrowed with razor sharp scrutiny at the nervous bartender.

"And you're absolutely certain it was Q'lomid Parsh?"

"I'd be lying if I said absolutely," the man muttered. "But I'm pretty sure."

Aurra gave a loud sigh. "Well, I suppose it's the best lead I have now. Get me a Scarlett Dame if you please."

The bartender blinked at the nearly polite order but recovered quickly and brought Aurra her drink. She took a long sip and was contemplating how best to act on the information she had just received when she detected movement a few feet away from her right.

"Water," a joyfully familiar voice requested. "Mixed in with a shot of the red Nubian Wine."

The bartender nodded and made to get the drink when Aurra stopped him.

"Hey," she gestured to the pale Human beside her. "Anything she orders in on me. Just add it to my tab."

The bartender nodded again. When he was away Aurra looked to her left to make sure no one was paying direct attention to them before facing Harlene who grinned at her.

"Told you I wasn't going to be away for two weeks."

Her smile was nearly as addicting to her touch and it had always done funny things to Aurra's mind. Funny things that could never be labeled as unpleasant. Her hand slid across the underside of the bar to grip Harlene's. When the girl placed her other hand on top of Aurra's it was nearly her undoing. But she still had a public image to keep up and seizing Harlene in her arms would cause it considerable damage.

"You better be glad you kept your word," Aurra said. Her responding smile was wry and predatory. "Or else I would have found a way to keep you here for at least a month."

Harlene tilted her head, gentle amusement in her eyes.

"You make that sound like a punishment. My other friends would miss me, but it's not something I'd object to."

Aurra's hand gripped Harlene's tightly. Though rigid discipline had been drilled into her by both a Jedi Master and expert Anzati assassins, she could only apply it to her emotions when it came to hunting and battle. It was near impossible to do it here.

"You always tell me what I want to hear," she pitched her voice low so it wouldn't shake.

"Not always," Harlene said. "But when I do…it's just how I feel."

God, she wanted to hold her, smell her, press her face to her hair and neck. The girl was addictive, but apart from that, it was the only way to come close to assuring herself that this wasn't just some cruel dream taunting her about what she could never have.

"Hey," Harlene whispered soothingly. Her palm caressed her arm. "It's okay. Calm down."

Aurra ducked her head well aware that her face must be like an open book. Harlene had never laughed at her feelings. Save for their first unpleasant interactions, she had always taken them very seriously and treated them with the utmost respect. But that didn't stop the lingering terror that never seemed to go away.

"Aurra, are you alright?"

She looked up and found Harlene staring at her with concern. At first all she could do was stare back.

_God, she's so beautiful…_

"I'm fine," Aurra forced a smile and withdrew her hand. She turned back to the bar and took a sip from her drink. "How long are you staying?"

"I could stay for a couple of days," Harlene replied sipping her own drink. "But it looks like you're hunting someone now."

Aurra cursed herself. She shouldn't have looked for another job so quickly. But she had needed something to distract herself. Harlene may be the most important thing in her life, but once she started a hunt, she couldn't stop unless the objective was accomplished or her employer cancelled or double-crossed her. She just couldn't. Hunting was in her blood.

"I'd cancel if I could," she said out loud.

"Who is it?" Harlene asked.

"Q'lomid Parsh. He was under the direct employ of Ziro the Hutt. Jabba wants to know if there are any more of his late uncle's secrets that he hasn't uncovered yet."

Harlene's lip curled. Aurra sighed.

"You don't like it that I'm still taking jobs from Jabba," she said dully.

"Not exactly," Harlene said. "Jabba may be the lowest of low scum, but there's a ninety-nine point nine percent chance that any employee of any Hutt isn't much better. So I guess it all works out for the best. Though I'd kill Jabba if I could."

"So would I," Aurra admitted. "You know I loathe all Hutts, but they pay well."

"Jabba's the worst as far as I know," Harlene muttered. "I met him only once but the way he looked at me—"

" _What?"_

"Aurra, it was inevitable. I willingly went with Jango Fett to hunt Komari Vosa—"

"What did he say?" Aurra demanded. "What did he do?"

"Nothing horrible. Not that he could do anything horrible," Harlene shrugged.

"Harlene,  _what did he say?"_

"Aurra, if you try to kill him I'll have no choice but to stop you. If you succeed, my superiors may never allow me to access this dimension again."

Muscle bulged at the corners of Aurra's jaw. With a furious grunt she turned away and took an abrupt swing from her glass. She slammed it down, gritting her teeth as she remembered the way Wallanooga had always looked at her. Those bulging, hideous, lust-filled eyes. But it wasn't lust for pleasures of the flesh. It was lust for her blood, her fear, her humiliation. The way he eyed her nearly naked body, her skin crawling from his gaze and the guard's gazes and from the ice-cold palace…

"Count Dooku's dead. Did you hear?"

Somehow Harlene always knew when to offer sympathy and when to offer distraction. Forcing the images from her mind Aurra nodded.

"And good riddance," she said. "Well…maybe not," she corrected herself as she gazed at Harlene's face.

"He manipulated the both of us," Harlene pointed out.

"For that alone I'd kill him," Aurra said. "But what happened because of it…I think I can forgive him."

To Aurra's delight a slight pink flush crept up Harlene's face. The atmosphere also began to feel very tight and uncomfortable. Aurra looked around to glare at the patrons. They were minding their own business but she wanted them gone. Summoning the bartender she paid the bill. Putting her arm around Harlene's shoulder, she led her out.

"Too stuffy?" Harlene asked.

"Too everything," Aurra said.

"But at least no one hit on either of us this time," Harlene said cheerfully. "That's always a plus."

Aurra glanced side-ways at Harlene's smiling face. Every so often the girl's leg brushed against hers which sent extra waves of warmth through Aurra's body.

"Has anything more happened?" she asked. "With the Virus Creed and that CAA organization?"

"Claire told me her spy has given us information that can thwart an attack from the CAA," Harlene answered. "All the President can do is secretly order more soldiers to lie in wait in the nearby sectors. Hopefully they can get there in time to back up the guards in the threatened sector."

"And the Virus Creed?"

Harlene shook her head. "No word. But Claire's taking my training to a whole new level so I'll be prepared when they come. I'm going to learn how to combine my raw power with my basic psionic powers."

"When I'm done with this job, we can begin our own strict training session," Aurra said. "I've still got plenty to teach you, especially when it comes to stealth techniques."

"That would be very helpful," Harlene said with gratitude. "Another of my…friends here is helping me too. He's teaching me Teras Kasi and Juyo lightsaber techniques. But don't worry, he's not a Jedi."

Aurra couldn't read Harlene's expression since she had turned her face away after hesitating at the word 'friends'. But the tone she had used, that soft nearly inaudible tone caused the blood to freeze in Aurra's veins.

Jealousy had become a second nature to her after her relationship with Harlene had improved, after she had seen that the girl had no harmful ulterior motives. Murder had clouded her vision when she had been informed of Harlene's friends and how much they meant to her. Harlene sometimes got frustrated and angry at Aurra's jealousy but most of the time showed patience and understanding. Aurra in turn tried to control it as best she could, but the terror was something that nestled in her soul and laughed at her faith in the only friend she ever had.

_You're nothing to her_  it hissed.  _She stays because she has to, because you'll cause trouble that she'll be blamed for. She smiles at you and doesn't cringe at your touch in order to control you better._

_And when the time is right…_

Aurra gripped Harlene's shoulder.

… _she'll leave you._

"Aurra?"

Her jaw clenched as she forced her fingers to loosen. "It's nothing."

"No, it's not," Harlene said, a grim knowing look in her eyes. She dropped her voice lower. "If it's happening again, we need to go back to the ship right away. We can hide behind something and I can teleport us there."

Aurra's eyes darted right and left. There were beings around them. A lot of beings. And several of them stared at Harlene while they passed with varying degrees of interest, curiosity and lust. Sometimes it pleased Aurra to fanaticize one of them approaching only to wind up on the pavement with a slashed throat. But other times, like this time, she wanted to unleash her fury and slaughter them all.

_(look at her eye her touch her try to take her and I'll kill you every single one of you)_

"Let's go over there," Aurra barely moved her mouth as she gestured over to an ally.

When they were back on the ship, Aurra leaned against the wall, a hand pressed to her forehead and breathing hard.

_The blue Twi'lek Jedi standing with her lightsaber raised, her face a mask of that loathsome sanctimonious calm._

" _You are not unique," she utters. "You are alone…"_

_With a snarl, Aurra lunges but is blasted away by the Force._

"… _as you choose to be."_

_Aurra howls and leaps again, hands hooked like claws, wanting to tear the Jedi's face off._

" _Lying Jedi witch!"_

_A burning pain on her face as the Twi'lek's blue blade slashes her cheek. Then the bio-computer implanted in her skull is cut and the emptiness that follows is immediate._

" _What have you done…?" is all Aurra is able to mumble._

" _I've given you a chance to live," the Twi'lek replies. A sweeping kick to the face knocks Aurra's already dazed form to the ground._

" _Live Aurra Sing," the Twi'lek says as she stands over her defeated enemy. "Become what you could yet be."_

Lying Jedi witch  _Aurra mouths as the edges of her vision turn dark._  I'm not alone. I have—

Aurra's eyes snapped open as the memory passed. The hand on her forehead wrapped itself around what remained of the ruined bio-computer that enabled her to taste her victim's fear. When she took it away, her palm brushed the metal in a caress that contained no regret or melancholy. She turned around and saw Harlene staring at her with patience and concern.

_I don't need it anymore. I have something other than the hunt. But I haven't become what you thought I should, you self-righteous schutta._

_But she can leave you_  that cruel laughing voice said.  _You can replace the bio-computer. But once she's gone, then it's over._

_You will be lost._

The Dark Woman, the other Jedi, her fellow Padawans, the Sennex pirates, Wallanooga, the Anzati, all of them clashing together and the impact was so loud and sporadic, she couldn't think, couldn't focus and that horrible _horrible_  voice.

"Calm down," Harlene was suddenly in front of her with her hands on Aurra's face. "Everything's all right. Calm down."

_You're lost you're lost you're lost you're lost you're lostyou'relostyou'relostyou'relost you'relostyou'relostyou'relost…_

"Calm down."

Aurra gripped Harlene's forearms. Sweat beaded her brow.

"Can't," she groaned. "Call me one more time, hear the crashes, whistle some more, I don't want to hear it, kill the schuttas no Hutts in sight the rock and the Dark Woman…"

"Shhhh, shhhh," Harlene whispered. "You've beaten this before. I've seen you beat it. And you can keep on beating it," her fingertips gently massaged her temples. "Listen to my voice. Focus on me. Your name is Aurra Sing. My name is Harlene Ballantine. You're my companion, my friend. You trust me and I trust you. You believe I will always stay with you because it's the truth. I will never leave you," her lips touched Aurra's ear. "I will never leave you," her voice was the softest whisper. "Stay here with me. Forever."

The impact of the images grew less loud. Her mind began to stop screaming in pain. Her mouth moved to form mindless words, but she didn't say them out loud.

"Breathe," Harlene continued. "Just breathe."

The girl began to croon a haunting yet sweet melody in Aurra's ear. It deafened what remained of the crashes. The images began to die. Aurra's grip loosened on Harlene's arms and she stopped muttering. When the girl finished her song she began it over again. Aurra buried her face in her hair and allowed the music to soothe her now clear but exhausted mind. When she felt her strength return she drew back a bit. Harlene cupped her cheek.

"How do you feel?" she whispered.

Aurra pressed their foreheads together. "Better."

"That's good. Do you feel stronger?"

Long-fingered hands slid around Harlene's waist. "Yeah."

"That means it will go away someday. Permanently."

"I want it to," Aurra murmured. This wasn't the first time her mind had felt it would destroy itself. The instances were sporadic but they happened only once every few months over the past year and a half. And, thank God, they always happened when Harlene was with her. She laughed without mirth. "My Anzati teachers always said I was talented. Wonder what they'd say if they knew my own mind could drive me mad with no effort."

"You're not supposed to be able to," Harlene's eyes were slightly narrowed. "This isn't something you should have. You weren't born with it, and there are much worse cases—"

"Cases?"

The girl bit her lip and looked away. "Aurra…I don't think I need to tell you that you have a mental disorder."

"Harlene, I've known that before I hit my teenage years."

"I mean a real one," Harlene said ignoring Aurra's attempt at dry humor. "I've been doing some research over the past few months—"

"And you haven't told me?" Aurra half-snarled. "I'm not a kriffing medical experiment, Harlene!"

"Goddamn it, Aurra, I had to be sure!" Harlene shouted. "What the fuck did you expect me to do? Get you all worked up and then say 'oops, I was wrong'? Mental disorders aren't exactly a casual subject, you know."

Aurra fumed for a moment. "Fine. So, what did you find out?"

"From what you told me about your memories feeling like they're clashing and you can't focus them, not to mention your garbled speech…" Harlene looked pained. "Schizophrenia."

"Schizo-what?"

"Schizophrenia. It's a mental disorder that distorts a person's sense of reality, makes them hear voices and severely disorganizes their thoughts and speech. People that have it are nearly always born with it, but other times it develops due to continuous exposure to psychological stress."

"So the Dark Woman decided to give me a going-away present." Aurra's fist clenched against a wave of pain and fury. "That's another thing I have to thank her for when I see her again."

"But it seems to be a mild case, thank God," Harlene said. "Are you sure it only happens once every few months?"

"For the past year and a half," Aurra added. She frowned. "Why hasn't it happened earlier?"

Harlene avoided her eyes again. "Maybe…because of me."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not saying I caused it, but I think I'm the catalyst that woke it up," she took a deep breath. "Aurra, what's your greatest fear?"

"You know the answer to that," was the strained reply.

"I do. But I've noticed that your episodes always happen after that fear comes fully to the surface."

"And they've never happened when you're away," Aurra muttered. "Hey, don't," she gripped the girl's arms when a spasm of terrible guilt passed her features. "I think we both know something worse would have happened if it stayed buried longer. If you hadn't come along, if, when it surfaced by some other catalyst…I know I wouldn't have survived," she smiled and ran a hand down Harlene's hair. "So it looks like I owe you one."

The girl looked up and for some reason the sight of her face took Aurra's breath away.

"Maybe. But this marks one of those times where I wish logic were enough."

_You care about me_  Aurra thought.  _You love me for me. Just keep doing that and I won't care what price I have to pay. Even if you're the cause of it._

"I can put off the hunt for a little while before I start aching for it again," Aurra said. She took Harlene's arm and led her to the living quarters.

"Do you get headaches too?" the girl asked when they were on the sofa and in each other's arms.

"Sometimes," Aurra said. "They're not pleasant but they're not migraine level," her hand slid behind Harlene's cloak to cup her waist. "Why didn't you tell me about…schizo-whatever sooner?"

"Schizophrenia," Harlene corrected. "Well, like I said, it's a very delicate subject. People who have it are often in deep denial. And can you blame them? If you can't trust your own sense of reality, what can you trust?"

"You were afraid I wouldn't believe you?"

"Not so much. Schizophrenia can be treated with various medications and therapy. Your episodes fade away when I touch you and talk to you. I was worried that you would get angry with me and wouldn't let me calm you down. Then you would suffer more. Our relationship may have improved a great deal, but even if you fully trust me, can you say you're completely comfortable with it?"

Aurra savored the feel of her fingers gliding through black hair. "No. I can't. But I'm comfortable with it enough. I would need solid evidence…and I would need to be looking in your eyes before I believe you would betray me."

She felt Harlene's arms tighten around her. "That means a lot."

_You trust me too._

Sighing into her neck, Aurra's hands absently stroked Harlene's arms and back. So warm. So peaceful. But…it wasn't enough. There was something missing. This feeling wasn't new. It had manifested over the past couple of months or so, but she felt something was missing. Drawing back, she looked into Harlene's eyes. She had tried so hard not to do that at first. What she felt upon doing so had frightened her to death. But that had changed. Now she could let her guard down and lose herself in the emotions in Harlene's eyes. All for her. All for her…she moved closer in response to her now pounding heart.

_It's not enough. I want more. Give me more._

_Give me more…_

"Aurra?"

Aurra's eyes widened when she saw how close Harlene's face was to hers. They weren't even an inch apart. The girl was staring at her in confusion and slight nervousness, but that wasn't what caused Aurra's heart to stop pounding so suddenly it was a physical shock.

_(Harlene's face her hair her warmth her touch her lips)_

Aurra scrambled back as a gasp was wrenched from her mouth.

_I didn't…I didn't want…I couldn't want…_

Harlene reached for her, genuine alarm on her face. "Aurra, what's wrong?"

Staggering to her feet, Aurra back away out of reach of Harlene's hand. The girl's touch had terrified her before. And that terror had been the most potent when she realized how much she wanted it.

But what she wanted then was so much more different that what she wanted…

No.

_NO!_  Aurra screamed at herself.  _I don't want touch like that! There is_ nothing _more painful than touch like that._ _ **NOTHING**_ _. I don't want it. I DON'T WANT IT!_

"Aurra, please," Harlene beseeched. She made no attempt to move closer but her hand was still outstretched.

_(Hands on her body hands scratching clawing tearing pinching squeezing pressure pressure soul-splitting pressure I want to die I WANT TO DIE!)_

"It's just me. Aurra, its Harlene. What's wrong? Tell me what's wrong."

Aurra backed away until she felt the wall press against her. Her arms crossed over her breasts so tightly they shook from the pressure.

_(the pressure the pressure burned in your skin your soul the_ pressure _)_

Harlene was offering reassurance. Comfort. But what would happen this time if Aurra accepted it? Would she still feel…? Would she still want…?

Terror stabbed through her.

"Go away," she whispered.

Harlene drew back as if she had been slapped.

"Go away," Aurra's voice grew hoarse with desperation. "Harlene, please go away."

"Aurra, don't—"

" _Go away!"_

She did. Aurra sagged against the wall still clutching her chest. Her shriek was still echoing through the ship.

"I didn't want…" she mumbled. "I couldn't want. No, no…"

She expected more memories to assault her. Memories of depraved moans vulgar words

_(child whore schutta Huttspawn)_

and fiery touches and  _pressure._  But they remained where they usually stayed except when she went through one of her episodes. In fact, all she could see was Harlene. And while that wasn't a bad thing…

_I wanted to kiss her._

Aurra shook her head and gritted her teeth. She had thought her cravings for the hunt wouldn't surface again for several more hours. But she needed the hunt.  _Now._

xXx

General Grievous was in a fairly optimistic mood upon exiting the transmission room. It was a stark change from a few hours prior. Not only had the capable leader of the Separatist movement been murdered by that slip of a Jedi brat, but upon returning to Utapau he had been ordered to move the leaders of the Separatist movement to the volcanic planet Mustafar. The task itself was not a hindrance since he did not have to personally carry it out. But he still had to endure Nute Gunray's incessant whining about the failed promise of security of Utapau as well as Grievous's failure to keep Chancellor Palpatine captive. While Grievous still privately fumed over that, he loathed to be reminded of it especially from one such as the Trade Federation Viceroy. But as Grievous suspected, Lord Sidious had generously forgiven him for his failure and even informed him that Dooku had been sacrificed not lost. Any anger over the Count's death had instantly vanished. So long as Lord Sidious still lived, the new galactic government would be in good hands.

He was on his way to his training room when he felt a surge of anger. It took him only a moment to realize why: Harlene had failed to meet him after she had finished tormenting the Chancellor. She was the only being who held any value that came close to Lord Sidious, but she had a tendency to ignore his summons. While she didn't do it often and never snubbed him when he was in the presence of others, it was highly irritating.

Grievous let out a hacking cough as he walked down the hall. The damage Mace Windu had done to his outer shell was not fatal but still caused considerable discomfort. He could have the Geonosian technicians take a look at him, but that would take long. And he wanted to practice his swordplay now.

"General?"

Grievous stopped. His posture went rigid.

"You have decided to grace me with your presence at last," sarcasm dripped off every syllable. "I cannot express how privileged I feel."

To his fury there was no reply. He whirled around and made a swiping gesture with his hand.

"Do  _not_  ignore me!"

"I'm not going to apologize, Grievous," Harlene's eyes were as hard as her voice. "I've told you time and time again that I have other duties that I need to attend. What's more, I don't follow orders from you."

She had mouthed off to him before. And every time he had to restrain himself from tearing her limb from limb. However, he knew it would satisfy him for only a few brief seconds. He walked up to her and cupped her face.

"You make me want to kill you at times like these," he uttered.

She didn't flinch. "Why don't you?"

So bold. So very, very bold.

"I would kill you, my ally," Grievous's voice dropped to a soft whisper as he put his face an inch from hers. "But I'm too fond of you. It would be like…killing a  _pet."_

Her haired brow rose. "I'm your trusted ally yet I'm that inferior to you?"

"You are that  _infuriating,_ " Grievous corrected. Before he could elaborate, pain rose in his gutsack. Turning his head away he gave a loud cough.

"Are you all right?" Harlene sounded concerned. Grievous glared at her.

"It is nothing save for another reason to repay the Jedi," he clenched his fist and glared at it. "They will all pay for what they—"

The words died in his voice box when Harlene started feeling along the edges of the artificial ribcage protecting his gutsack. Grievous blanched.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking the damage," her voice was distant as she slipped her hand between the ribs and began to very gently probe the gutsack. Grievous didn't stop her. For one thing, the sensations were quite pleasant. For another, if she could heal the damage right away he wouldn't have to waste time visiting the Geonosians. But before she had finished even assessing his injuries Grievous heard approaching sounds down the hall. His eyes narrowed in a scowl. If there was one thing he loathed more than the Jedi

_(Huk)_

it was having an unnecessary audience while he was being repaired. And if it was Gunray he knew he wouldn't be able to restrain himself from killing him.

"Cease," Grievous closed a hand around Harlene's arm gently but firmly. "I will allow you to examine me but not in the open," he turned away. "Follow me."

The medical chamber he led her to was deserted which was a good thing. It saved Grievous the trouble of forcefully removing any unfortunate inhabitants. He coughed and then settled himself on a chair designed specifically for him.

"Would it be easier if the outer shell was removed?" he asked.

"Yes, but I don't know how this technology works. I could—"

"You don't.  _I_  do," Grievous said in a shamelessly supercilious tone. He swiftly removed the outer shell and stared at Harlene expectantly. The girl circled around the chair and scanned the fully exposed gutsack. When her hands started to probe Grievous allowed himself to relax. His memories of his previous life were distant and vague, meaning they hardly mattered anymore, but he knew he had always appreciated a female's touch. Granted, Harlene was human and not Kaleesh, but her soft hands were not unwelcome.

"Bet you're glad to get rid of the Separatist leaders, huh?"

Grievous opened his eyes. "It is a relief. I hope Lord Sidious gives me the order to carry out their executions soon enough."

Harlene was silent for a moment. Her hands stilled. "The damage isn't extensive. It won't be truly threatening for at least a few more weeks. There are minor lacerations in the sack and a few of your organs are bruised. I won't be able to heal all the damage, but I can reduce your coughing."

"That is good enough," Grievous waved a dismissive hand. "The rest the Geonosians can take care of."

Harlene nodded and proceeded to heal him. It took less time than Grievous thought it would and when it was over Harlene started to remove her hands. Grievous grabbed her wrist.

"Do not cease your movements while we are still conversing."

It was an order. Harlene appeared stunned.

"General—"

"I am a creature of war but I am not ascetic," Grievous said. "I find your touch pleasing. You may cease after we have finished our discussion."

Nodding once, Harlene obeyed. Her hands gently glided across the artificial skin.

"This war's going to be over soon, though," she said.

"But it will end with vast amounts of bloodshed," Grievous countered. "Lord Sidious and his new apprentice will lead the new order, and I shall remain its military fist."

"New apprentice?"

"I do not know who he is. All I was told is that he is far younger and more powerful than Lord Tyranus himself."

Harlene gave no outward sign of emotion. "Are you afraid all the wars will end someday?"

"No."

"But if Sidious establishes this perfect order—"

"The wars will never end," Grievous glared at her as if she had uttered a blasphemy. "Bloodlust will always dwell in beings of flesh. They dwell in me more strongly, but the wars will never end. It is the way things are. It's what drives beings, what makes them truly function.  _Conflict_  is the order of nature."

She smiled slightly. "That last part is something we both agree on."

"Good. Withdraw your hands."

After she did Grievous refastened the outer shell. His departed without a word or a backward glance. Therefore he didn't see the flash of intense alarm on Harlene's face or the speed in which she teleported away.

xXx

It was second nature to Maul to become completely awake and alert upon detecting the slightest of anomalies in his surroundings while slumbering. Perhaps one would argue that the smell of ancient rock was not in the least threatening, but he had not survived his Master's training by betting his life on chance. When he was on his feet and in a fighter's stance he didn't waste time in being surprised that he was fully dressed and that the Force had summoned his blade from his belt rather than beside his cot. His attention was far more preoccupied with what lay ahead of him and the immensely dark and powerful currents writhing and shifting in the Force.

He had been here before. Even if Harlene had never brought him here he would have recognized where he was from ancient Sith texts and holocrons. But no true Sith would need a past reference to know that they were in the most scared of ancient Sith territory. Not when every air molecule was drenched in the dark side.

"Korriban," he murmured. His eyes followed the enormous stone statues glaring fiercely down at him, daring him to enter their tombs. "The Valley of the Dark Lords."

Was he dreaming? His nightmares had somewhat decreased over the past few days, but never in his life had he dreamed of Korriban. Not even after visiting it.

_You aren't dreaming._

Realization coupled with anger dawned on him.

"What have you done?" he demanded.

_If I told you it would ruin my whole purpose of doing it in the first place._

"Do not toy with me," Maul hissed. "Tell me what—"

"Maul!"

Harlene was several meters away. Before he could blink she was directly in front of him and appeared as stunned as he had been before.

"Apparently you were correct in that unstable bubbles can be fickle," Maul said sardonically.

"I sensed a shift happening," Harlene said. "Are you all right?"

"I am unharmed," he replied. "I retired several hours ago. Upon awakening I ended up here."

Harlene's brow rose. "And yet you appear to be fully dressed and you even have your lightsaber."

"I will not complain."

"Still…" Harlene closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Maul remained silent knowing she was attempting to reverse the shift. He was unsurprised when she couldn't. Her head darted right and left. Though she had no presence in the Force, he could feel her worry and frustration.

"This shift will not last long."

She practically glared at him. "How do you know?"

"Call it a highly accurate guess."

"Well, for both our sakes I hope so," she looked at her hand. Blue sparks erupted from her palm. "My powers seem to be in fine working order. I just pray it'll shift back by the time I need to leave."

"Why?"

She smiled. "Why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to?"

He could resist the temptation to touch her for now. First he needed to know what game the voice was playing.

"I suggest we do not remain in the middle the entire time," he holstered his weapon. "Perhaps if we discover an anomaly we can find a way to reverse the shift."

"It's worth a shot," Harlene agreed. "Though I have little to no knowledge on bubble shifts," she glanced around at the various tombs. "Where should we start?"

"A fair question," Maul said. "We went to Naga Sadow's tomb before did we not?"

"Well…" Harlene drawled out the word and didn't meet his eyes. "Not exactly."

Deciding to drop that line of conversation Maul said, "We may need to explore all of them if we are to discover an anomaly."

But Harlene wasn't paying attention to him. She had gone rigid and her gazed was locked on one of the tombs.

"Do you sense anything?" Maul asked immediately.

She pointed to the tomb. "We need to go there."

"So, you sense something?"

"Not exactly. But look at it. I know what Dark Lords are buried here. That one's unmarked meaning it doesn't belong here."

They were too far away for Maul to be absolutely certain the tomb had no inscriptions but he knew Harlene wouldn't lie.

"There is our anomaly then. We shall investigate what it holds."

"Together?"

He looked at her. There was no condemnation or accusation in her eyes. Just a plain serious question.

"Together," Maul responded. He considered demanding answers from the voice again but he didn't want to give it any satisfaction. If there was nothing that could be done he would play its wretched game so long as it didn't threaten Harlene.

_What about you?_

_Get out of my head!_

"Maul?"

"It is nothing," he said with very forced calm. Thankfully she dropped the subject.

They had barely set foot inside the tomb when a low rumbling sounded behind them. They both whirled around, weapons raised just in time to see the last crevice of outside light vanish due to a large door sealing the entrance.

Maul exchanged a grim look with Harlene.

"If my powers don't fuck up I can teleport us out of here," she said. "But maybe it's like a video game."

"Video game?"

"Yeah. Sometimes when you enter a room the door to it will mysteriously close and won't open again until you solve a puzzle, get an item," her lips pursed. "Or kill the enemy inside."

Maul turned around and began to walk down the corridor. "Then let us search for the true anomaly."

He deactivated his blade since light was not needed thanks to the various torches decorating the walls, but he kept it in his hand. Harlene did the same.

_I will play whatever miserable game you want me to play_  he mentally growled.  _And you will pay for toying with the both of us._

There was no answer. It made him want to punch the wall.

"Do you sense anything?" Harlene asked.

Maul reached deeper into the Force but the dark currents remained familiar. "Nothing unusual. But I will inform you if I do."

Both of them remained silent during the journey down the corridor. Maul continued to immerse himself in the Force and felt some of his anger at the voice fade. He had thought he would never have been able to taste darkness such as this ever again. This second experience seemed more extraordinary than the first. He felt his connection to the Force become stronger and more focused. Darkness coursed through his limbs making him feel that physical weariness was but a myth for the weak. His natural senses became more attuned. Inhaling deeply he smelled something wonderful.

It took him only a moment to realize it was Harlene.

If they hadn't immediately emerged from the corridor to discover an immense room he would have touched her. But Sith were not careless. Maul probed the Force currents for a minute and found nothing.

"We are alone," he said.

Harlene nodded once before looking around. Maul did the same. The room was indeed very large and looked as if it belonged more in a temple than a tomb. There were carved pillars on the east and west sides but the feature that caught both his and Harlene's attention was the short pillar in the north section. It was intricately carved and housed an enormous flame that was enough to cast nearly the entire room in brilliant red and gold light.

"Is this familiar to you?" Harlene asked.

"No," Maul replied. "I have studied Sith Holocrons and text extensively but I have never seen a room such as this."

"Well, the Sith are excellent when it comes to secrecy," Harlene said. "I know for a fact not all their temples and hideaways have been discovered yet."

"As do I," Maul was about to say something else but Harlene began walking toward the flame. He followed but stayed a few steps behind. Her movements appeared unnaturally liquid and Maul briefly wondered if a skeleton lay beneath her flesh. She stopped when she was a few feet in front of the flame. Maul still lingered behind. He could only see her back but that had been all he could see when he had approached her at the Works during the second week he had started training her. Against his will he had found the way the light of the sunset reflected off her black hair to be

_(mesmerizing)_

appealing. He had wanted to touch it. He thought she would have protested loudly in response or shocked him with her electricity, but he did not fear her power. He knew he wanted her, this powerful, intelligent, infuriating child. She was his. He would do whatever he pleased with what was his.

He had put his gloved hand on her hair. And she hadn't moved or made a sound.

_You always do the exact opposite of what I expect._

The memory faded. Maul found himself standing in a Sith-like temple that dwelled in a twisted version of Korriban formed by an unnamed god-like being, and Harlene was just up ahead, staring at an enormous dancing fire that bathed her in red-gold light as well as cast her in shadow. She turned around so she was fully facing him and gave him an amused look.

"Any reason why you're standing so far away?"

Maul didn't reply. Or rather, he couldn't reply. He had half expected to see the face of an eleven-year-old child once again. But he didn't. That image of her had still been lingering in his mind, but now it was utterly destroyed. He was truly seeing Harlene for what she was…what she had  _become_ only now. Despite the distance between them, her scent lingered in the air around him. It would grow stronger if he moved closer. He wanted to move closer. He wanted to touch her. Hold her. Such desires were more than familiar, but now they were coupled with a growing warmth in his blood that robbed them of any semblance of innocence.

He could ignore it no longer. It was undeniable.

He had felt these…urges before but to act on them merely because he felt them or worse, simply to experience physical pleasure was utterly demeaning to a Sith. Lord Sidious had taught him to embrace his passion, but true power lay in emotional passion not physical.

_(At least she is not five years older than her current age)_

Maul pushed down a wave of shame and straightened. He had no reason to feel shame now. What he desired was an intelligent, ruthless and powerful young woman who would one day become stronger than him. A young woman who would be the embodiment of the purpose his life would have in the future. This desire was not in the least shameful, and it should not be suppressed.

"Maul?"

Harlene was staring at him with confusion and a nervousness he had seen before. She was not unaware of his attraction, but she had yet to acknowledge it on a conscious level.

"Maul, why are you looking at me that way?"

He began to move toward her, eyes narrowed in determination. They belonged together. The Force had no involvement in their bond which made it all the more potent. Taking their relationship to a more intimate level would only serve to solidify it. Stopping in front of her, he put a hand on her cheek.

"The darkness here is truly wondrous," he said softly. "If I were able, I would transfer my connection to the Force to you for a short time. The taste of it is unlike anything you will ever experience."

"If that's true, then I may be reluctant to give it back to you."

Her smile was teasing. Almost coy. His blood began to feel warmer as he examined the features of her face. He had always found her coloring beautiful, but in the general sense she was a very physically appealing female. Though that was not the cause of his attraction he could not deny that it enhanced it.

"If it caused you to embrace the darkness and forsake the light, I would allow you to keep it for as long as you wished," he pitched his voice lower. "But it would leave me with yet another void. And in exchange, I would expect you to fill it."

She gave a small laugh. "Maul, I was only joking. I would never do that to you."

"I know you would not," slowly, his other hand came up to rest behind her waist. "But another void is unnecessary for the awareness I have now."

She went rigid in his arms. Her wide eyes searched his. Despite the glow of the flames she visibly paled.

"Maul, what-?"

"You know what," he had to hide some irritation at her reaction. "You cannot be surprised."

The shock melted from her face, but the expression it held now was almost grim.

"I shouldn't be," she said. "You've been looking at me differently. But I've never liked to presume in cases such as this."

Maul bared his teeth. "Other males have expressed intimate interest in you?"

She smiled sweetly. "Maul, would you like me to send twenty-thousand volts through your system?"

Forcing back rage and jealousy defied his very nature as it was but even that was nothing compared to the images forming in his mind. Images of males looking upon Harlene with desire,  _touching_  her…

_Control_  he told himself.  _Control._

"The prospect of another male touching you for any reason has always been repellant to me," he said as evenly as he could. "Is that unreasonable with what you have been through in the past and with the desire I now have for you?"

Her face didn't soften. "How long?"

"In honesty, ever since you returned to me as a young woman rather than a little girl."

She looked down then back up again. Her eyes were narrowed and she pushed herself away from him.

"All right, Maul, what the hell is it you're trying to pull?"

Jaw clenching in anger he took a step toward her. "If you wish to accuse me of anything, then I suggest you do it outright."

"I said I want to know what you're really after. Someone like you would  _not_  seek out sexual interaction unless you had some ulterior motive," she said in a cutting tone. "I know Sith openly embrace their passion but anything used to enhance it would be only a tool to them. Including sex."

"We Sith  _are_  creatures of passion," he took another step toward her and she did not move back. "And seeking to fulfill only pleasure or bodily urges would be abhorrent," slowly, he reached for her again. "You are not a tool, Harlene. We can both feel the bond between us. It is deep. So deep it is as if the Force has enabled me to see the dark places of mystery certain areas of it are shrouded in. I wish to explore those places," his hands wrapped around her waist. "I wish to explore  _you."_

She was pale no longer. The hardness in her face was melting away. Her bright eyes gazed unblinkingly into his own. Her lips parted slightly to accommodate her increasing breath. Maul wanted very much to do something right now. Something involving mouths…but he waited.

"Do you wish to explore the dark places of our bond?" his thumb came up to trail down her cheek. "Do you wish to explore me?"

Harlene shivered in response to his touch but her eyes still carried a steely glint. "We do have a bond. But I'm not Sith, Maul. To me sexual intimacy is the exact opposite of a tool."

"That is one of the rare beliefs you have that I have respect for despite our disagreements," he replied seriously. "Dishonoring your beliefs regarding intimacy would be no different than dishonoring your body. Do you fear I would?"

"I answered that when I was eleven," she said. "It hasn't changed."

"Do you fear my desire?" the far away anger and humiliation that she would reject him was coming close to the surface. His head felt unusually warm, as if he had a fever and he felt a building pressure around his horns. She couldn't reject him. He knew she desired him in return. They had to share this. They  _had to_. His voice dropped to a hiss. "Does my desire disgust you?"

She lowered her head meaning she didn't see him bare his teeth or the slight sheen of perspiration on his forehead. But his hands on her waist were now trembling. Surely she felt  _that_  at least.

When she looked up, her face was unreadable. Before Maul's torment could worsen she said. "If you wanted to use me, then yes I would be disgusted. But I know you don't."

He relaxed a fraction. She wanted him. He just had to get her to admit it outright. Then she would realize how much they needed to share this. "You did not answer my first question," he said. After a beat, he corrected himself. A rare occurrence. "Actually you did. Your reaction to me spoke volumes," he smiled with amusement. "For someone who can supposedly control their emotions, you are remarkably expressive."

She sighed. "It doesn't work that way. Yes, I have the power to control my emotions…and my mentor made sure I trained myself to do so when absolutely necessary," Maul wondered about the spasm of pain that crossed her face. "But for something like this, I have to be  _willing_  to control myself."

"Meaning you do not wish to," he pulled her closer until she was pressed up against him and a very small part of him wondered if his actions were a result of his triumph or the heat that threatened to consume him. "Do not be like the Jedi, Harlene. Release the passion that is building up inside you. Come with me," he cupped her chin and bore his gaze into hers. "Let us explore each other's darkness."

One of Lord Sidious's greatest lessons had been single-mindedness. Perhaps Maul had taken it out of context and that valuable lesson had aided his ultimate failure, but now he  _savored_  it. There was nothing, nothing but Harlene in his arms, her delicious warmth, his desire for her and this agonizing,  _infuriating_  wait that she seemed so determined to drag on. Control. He needed control. Say you're mine, say you're mine, say everything you are belongs to me. Why resist? You know you are  _mine—_

At first he didn't notice when her hand came up to rest on his cheek. But he moved closer when he did. Closer to her eyes…no they weren't eyes. They were blood red flames swimming in endless oceans of darkness. She was so warm. And she was moving closer as well. Their lips would touch so very, very soon…

_Traitor._

The sheer malevolence in the whisper that rang through the chamber was enough for both of them to cease their movements, break apart and draw their blades.

_Traitor._

Maul stood firmly beside Harlene, crimson blade arched and teeth bared in rage. Who dared to interrupt them? He reached out with the Force but was immediately met with a backlash so violent he staggered as a gasp burst from his lungs.

"Maul!" with her free hand Harlene reached out to steady him, her face very concerned but he shrugged her off.

"Keep alert," he snapped. "I sense something…something very powerful. It is of the dark side and it means us harm."

_Traitor._

The whisper was louder this time. It wasn't the voice…

A loud roar erupted from the fire in front of them which was no longer red and gold but inky black and gray, bathing the room in darkness. Silver mist began to flow from the base of the pillar and swiftly made its way toward them. Harlene thrust out her hand and narrowed her eyes but the mist did not slow.

"I can't—stop it," she grated out.

Maul tried to summon the dark side again but he was met with yet another backlash, this time more violent.

_Foolish heretic._

The voice was deep and dark and came from the silver mist. It reared in the air like a viper coiling to strike. But it did not touch them. Instead it swirled and took the form of a very tall and powerful male humanoid. A coral-like helmet covered his head but left most of his facial features exposed. Thick robes flowed around his form and living Orbalisk parasites covered his chest like armor. He was a solid shadow at the most, as far from flesh and blood as could be, but this only served to amplify his terrible power.

"Darth Bane," Harlene whispered.

Maul was not surprised that Harlene recognized the Dark Lord who has started the Rule of Two, but he was surprised that he did not drop to his knees in reverence. Why? Why would he hesitate? Why couldn't he…?

"You defile the sacred temple of the Sith and you expect the dark side to bow to your will?" Bane's furious smoky eyes burned holes into Maul as if he were the lowest thing in the galaxy.

Confusion momentarily forgotten, he raised his sword at the shadow before him. "I am a Dark Lord of the Sith, Lord Bane," he declared. "I am in the service of my Master no longer, but I always will be Sith."

"Your actions speak louder than your words," Bane's gaze fell on Harlene. "Passion is of the dark side, as is lust. This one has darkness, but it is weak, tainted, smeared and defiled by light. I suppose that is fitting since she is not even of the Force."

Bane raised his hand and before Maul could react, a black tendril shot from his palm and struck Harlene in the chest. She didn't even blink.

"You could not feel that, could you?" Bane whispered. "Your existence defiles the Force and the dark side. Your darkness could never join that of the Sith. Like the light, you are a blasphemy—"

"Silence!" Maul bellowed. "You are the fabled Sith'ari, Lord Bane, yet you dare to make such ignorant presumptions!? If you only knew—"

"Maul," he felt a hand touch his arm. "I can speak for myself."

Harlene's face was firm and resolute. Breathing hard, Maul forced himself to back down. He would not have reacted so strongly if he had not been shown that future vision of Harlene, but since he had…

_You know nothing, Lord Bane. The one beside me will be an embodiment of the darkness, something no Sith could ever hope to achieve._

Harlene calmly stepped forward. She stared at the apparition of Darth Bane with cold contempt.

"You think you know me—Dessel?"

The shadow grew rigid. Maul stared at Harlene in confusion but she seemed satisfied by the response she got.

"You add to your blasphemy, little nothing," Lord Bane rumbled.

"The Force is not a religion, Dessel," Harlene said. "It's a philosophy, a way of life. By calling me a blasphemer, you've admitted outright that you perceive the Force in a distorted and twisted manner."

Maul felt the dark side surge through Lord Bane. His gray, smoky eyes turned a fierce, burning yellow.

"Twisted you say?" he hissed and raised his hand once again. "You who will never feel the Force, never be a part of it…you are a freak of nature."

But the blasts of darkness that shot from his palm were not aimed at Harlene. Maul felt a violent impact and screamed as the voice of Darth Bane roared in his mind.

_Hear me, heretic. Her darkness is nothing, but her light will taint you. If you give into your lust, then she will destroy you. You will be ruined._

_Forever._

"MAUL!? MAUL! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!"

Lord Bane's presence retreated and Maul was left with a clouded mind and vision blurred by splotches of darkness. He could hear Harlene screaming his name.

"I am well," his voice came out a hoarse growl. "Cease shouting."

She did. Breathing hard, Maul blinked rapidly and called on the Force again. This time the dark side did not elude him. When he was fully lucid he found himself lying on the floor, his upper body supported by a very concerned Harlene.

"Maul?"

"I said I am well," he growled again and though humiliated by the weakness he was displaying he allowed Harlene to help him stand. Looking right and left he saw that they were back at the Works.

"Looks like we've shifted back," Harlene said keeping a hand on his arm. "After Bane did…whatever to you, you screamed for a few seconds. I tried to kill him but we shifted back here."

Maul stared at her, then at the open viewport that bathed the room in white light. Not much time had passed. It was still night.

"He does not understand."

"What?"

"Lord Bane," Maul clarified. "He does not understand that despite your flaws you openly embrace your darkness."

"Yeah, but that's not all he said," Harlene responded dryly. "My darkness is nothing because I'm not of the Force."

"I thought much the same in the beginning," Maul said. Wanting to return where they had last left off, he put his hands around her waist. "I admired your darkness, but did not believe it could ever be compared to the Sith," one hand slid up to cup the back of her neck. "Later I decided that your lack of the Force is irrelevant."

"And what made you decide that?" Harlene asked quietly.

Maul moved closer.

"Because I can feel it without the Force," he whispered. "I can see it your eyes, the way you move, the way you fight, your anger, your hatred. Darkness radiates from you, Harlene," Maul was practically shaking with excitement and eagerness. He didn't merely feel warm, he was  _burning._  To touch her, to bring their mouths together…"And I wish to explore the deepest depths of it."

Harlene moved closer, just the slightest centimeter, then she backed away.

"Maul, please let go of me."

He didn't. But freezing in disbelief and anger enabled her to free herself from his embrace. She stepped back and her expression was guarded. Though furious, Maul made no move toward her.

"You deny this?" he snarled through bared teeth. "You deny this now when you would have accepted me before? Why!? Are you succumbing to some meaningless fear or do you just wish to taunt me?"

She winced but not nearly as much as he wanted her to. "Back on Korriban…you wanted to kiss me. And you want to kiss me now too, right?"

Maul clenched his fists. The crack of his knuckles echoed through the silent room.

" _Yes."_

"I would have kissed you on Korriban if we hadn't been interrupted," she said. "I got caught up in the moment, because…no male has ever looked at me the way you have. No male has ever been so open with me."

If she expected that to mollify him, she got the opposite result.

"Then why?" he demanded harshly.

"I've always tried to be cautious about starting anything with you because to put it bluntly, you are without a doubt the most arrogant ass I have ever had the privilege of meeting throughout my entire fucking life," She ignored his growl of rage and continued. "I'll admit that our…attraction is mutual despite that. But our differences are deep enough so that I'll have to give it a bit of thought first."

"If you do that, then you are only wasting time," Maul stepped forward. "You will accept me, Harlene."

"You're an ass, Maul."

"Insulting me will not prolong the inevitable. Nor will your useless insistence on waiting."

"Call my need for time useless again, and I'll ram my fist into your balls until you lose consciousness."

In a single swift movement, Maul had Harlene pressed against him.

"I do not fear pain, and I do not fear you," he half-whispered half-hissed. "Practice what you preach, Observer. You begged me not to make the mistakes you made, yet you are dangerously close to making them again."

"That just goes to show how little you understand," she smiled scornfully. "You don't fear me, but you fear to be without me, and that's why you're rationalizing my 'flaws' away. Open your eyes Maul. The Sith would ostracize you if they knew of all the excuses you've made for me. I held a dagger at Sidious's throat. I would have plunged it into his jugular if not for my orders. You failed on Tatooine because I goaded you. I value compassion and love. I embrace the light as well as the darkness, and you know by now that won't change. Bane was right, Maul. No self-respecting Sith would ever rationalize that. No self-respecting Sith would want me," she grinned.

"No  _Sith_  would want me."

Shaking hands fisted into her cloak, Maul wanted to ravish her mouth with his own and rip her to pieces while he did so.

She thought he was not Sith.

She had to  _nerve_  to say he was  _not Sith._

"That is one insult, Harlene," he uttered in a voice vibrating with menace. "That I will never tolerate from you. Ever."

"Do you deny what I said before? The things I did? The things I believe?"

"You have the darkness of a Sith," Maul snarled. He yanked her so close they could kiss without needing to move. "You embrace it. You accept it. You do not regret it. That is all. Nothing else matters. I will never serve Lord Sidious again, but I am not betraying him or the Sith by desiring you, so long as neither of us forsakes the darkness."

"And if I did?"

"You would not."

"Are you so certain? I still have my emotional powers. If I wanted I could program myself to never feel things like anger or hatred again."

"You would not," Maul tried to ignore the desperation in his tone and that his hands were now shaking with terror as well. "Your darkness is intrinsic. You would go mad. You would die."

"No, I wouldn't," she said calmly. "Because I could make myself not care."

Feeling as if his jaw would crack under the pressure of his clenched teeth, Maul all but dug his fingers into her back.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Well, remember that you started it, what with you acting like an ass when I said I needed time to think about having a more intimate relationship with you," she said dryly. "But I'm glad it turned out this way so I can help you get over another of your delusions," her hands came up on either side of his face. "You are  _not_  Sith, Maul. You have a deep sense of honor and you stick to it no matter what. A Sith would see honor only as a tool. But you hold it in deep value. And Maul, please be realistic. No Sith would ever want me. You heard Darth Bane himself denounce me as a blasphemer."

"You are wrong," he said vehemently. "So long as I embrace the darkness and forsake the light, I will always be Sith."

She sighed. "Well, I can't say I was expecting anything. But at least you didn't go bonkers on me." Her eyes met his and she smiled. "You don't have to be Sith to embrace the darkness, you know."

"I  _am_  Sith," he hissed. "I will never touch the light.  _Never."_

"I don't blame you. Darkness is all you've ever known. And we all fear what we don't understand," she smiled again. "If you want, we can stop this line of conversation."

It took everything he had not to let his relief show. "That is fortunate," he said coldly. "I loathe to suffer through inane prattle. But I am not the only one who must have 'delusions' corrected. If you do not believe I am Sith, then I will have no choice but to correct you."

"And how will you do that?" she asked.

His grip on her relaxed and grew suggestive.

"I will show you the depths of my passion, my darkness when you accept me," he said. "During your absences, I will focus my connection to the dark side. And when we meet, Harlene," he dropped his head to whisper in her ear. "You will know who I am."

Her responding shiver was utterly delicious, as was the flush that spread across her cheeks when he bore his gaze into her.

"Maul," her sudden seriousness drew his full attention. "Would you hurt me? That way?"

His eyes narrowed. "I swear on my life I would never hurt or dishonor you. Not that way. You have my word."

For the first time he found himself entranced by the softness in her smile.

"With my honor, Maul," she declared. "I will always trust you."

 


	8. Chapter 8

 

" **Are you sure it's wise to keep her ignorant about Aurra's new interest?"**

" **Like all decisions I've made throughout my life, there is a possibility it will turn out to be a mistake. But now it feels like the right thing to do."**

" **Taking a leaf out of Harlene's book?"**

" **When it feels right."**

" **Ha, ha."**

" **The sexual self is deeply personal and the individual is the only one who can truly examine and understand it. You saw Aurra's reaction to her own desire. If Harlene confronted her or started acting differently around her, she would only sink deeper into denial or worse. Aurra needs to decide what she feels and what she wants all on her own."**

" **And then what? Are you saying you want them to get together? Is Harlene even into women?"**

" **I'm more interested in her being into Aurra rather than women in general."**

" **And so begins the exploration of sexuality. We're in for a real rollercoaster here."**

" **I'm going to talk to Harlene when she comes back."**

" **You were pretty straightforward when she told you Maul had hit on her. What, did you change your mind about Aurra?"**

" **No."**

" **So, what's the problem?"**

" **You saw her face and you heard her speak. She doesn't let her hormones control her, but she has no idea how powerful sexuality truly is. Maul even less so."**

" **Are you worried about what he could do to her or what she could do to him?"**

" **Both. But I'm not certain which one I'm more worried about."**

" **She wants him. I could see it on her face when she spoke to you."**

" **Then we'll just have to wait for her to tell us what happens after she accepts him.** _ **If**_ **she accepts him."**

**xXx**

Claire had assured Harlene that the recent shift in the reality bubble didn't cause any damage after they finished their discussion. But Harlene didn't vanish her comm like she always did. Instead she gripped it as she stared at the vehicles moving back and forth on the air roads of Coruscant. She didn't want quiet now. She wasn't in shock, but she didn't think either. She just…sat. Thinking would come later.

When her mind became clear again she stood up and stared at the midday sun. She was still very worried about Aurra but also knew her presence would cause more harm than good right now. She would check on her in a few days. Activating her comm once again, she scanned to today's events and narrowed her eyes. Today was the day that Palpatine would appoint Anakin as his personal representative on the Jedi Council.

Meaning it was time to enact the first stages of her vengeance.

Harlene opened the file labeled " _Revenge of the Sith_  by Matthew Stover" and activated the eleventh chapter which in her opinion was the turning point of the story. The Council would give Anakin the biggest 'fuck you' of his life, Anakin would bitch and complain, and both would lose the non-existent trust they had in one another.

She would have to be careful. Her influence on Anakin could cause him to hate the Council too much too soon. But it was time she gave those self-righteous dogmatic bastards an inkling as to how much her feelings toward them had changed. From what she had called Yoda, Anakin knew he had her full support, but she wanted to show it in front of the Council. There had to be a way to kill two birds with one stone…

Harlene scrolled down the middle of the chapter. Her blood boiled as she remembered reading the first half. Those heartless, cold, selfish sons of bitches, talking about Anakin like he was some kind of weapon, how they would use him and manipulate him—

She took a deep breath to calm herself before rereading the last part of Anakin's first Council meeting. Her eyes locked with a single sentence: 'Then Yoda volunteered. And for some reason the Council didn't even bother to vote'.

Harlene raised an eyebrow. "The Council didn't even bother to vote, eh?" she looked up and grinned. "Well, hello opportunity."

To be certain, she called Claire and asked her advice. Her mentor replied that Anakin already knew the Council distrusted him. There was no harm in confirming it.

xXx

Anakin sat in the Chancellor's transport, hands clasped on his knees and nearly trembling with excitement. He always knew Palpatine had utter faith in him and his abilities but today proved just how much he thought Anakin could be trusted. He hadn't thanked him and he felt a little guilty over it, but maybe thanks weren't necessary. The Chancellor wouldn't have appointed him to the Jedi Council if he thought Anakin was untrustworthy or ungrateful.

A soft rustle to his right caused him to look up. His face lifted into the first grin since his nightmares about Padme had begun.

"Well, something really good has happened," Harlene sounded amused but also happy at Anakin's display.

Anakin's grin widened and if they hadn't been in a transport with limited space he would have picked her up and swung her around. But he settled for jumping up and hugging her hard.

"Harlene, it's happening," he said in a breathless voice. "I'm going to be a Jedi Master."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

He nodded vigorously. "Palpatine has appointed me to be his personal representative on the Jedi Council. Mastership comes with a seat on the Council," he shook his head. "I can't believe…I never thought…this means I'm going to be the youngest Master in the Jedi Order's twenty-five thousand year history!"

The joy on Harlene's face mirrored his own. "That's so wonderful. I'm so happy for you."

They both sat down and Anakin's euphoria began to die as he thought of something else. "Do you know what else this means?"

"What?" Harlene asked sounding surprised at his suddenly serious tone.

Anakin stared at his hands clasped in his lap. "It's…exciting to be given Mastership. I knew my name had come up for it before, but…"

"But what?"

He looked at her. "I know they're afraid of me. The Council. Even Obi-Wan. He's my best friend but he doesn't trust me. None of them trust me. But right now I don't care," his voice rose. "I don't need their trust or their acknowledgment or their respect. But I do need Mastership. With that rank I could access all the forbidden holocrons in the archives. I can see how the Masters of old handled prophetic dreams. I can find a way to save Padme."

"So you don't care about Mastership by itself?"

"Maybe if it weren't for my dreams I would. But now that Padme's in danger…" he squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them. "Nothing else matters. I just want access to those holocrons. That's all," he looked at Harlene. "I'm going to the Council right now. When the meeting's over, will you come with me to the archives? I know you may not be able to—"

"I'll be there," she said firmly taking his hand. "If only just to offer support."

xXx

Harlene bid Anakin a brief farewell and teleported onto a skyscraper nearest to the Council Chambers. The Masters were filing in right now and taking their seats. Harlene sang:

_Come mothers and fathers throughout the land_

_And don't criticize what ya can't understand_

_Your sons and your daughters are beyond your command_

_Your old road is rapidly agin'_

_Please get out of the new one if ya can't lend your hand_

_For the times they are a-changin'_

She fell silent and looked to her right. Qui-Gon was standing beside her, grim and sad.

"I'm going in," Harlene declared without a shred of pity and teleported. Obi-Wan was about to enter along with Saesee Tiin and Agen Kolar.

"Obi-Wan."

He stopped along with Tiin and Kolar. "Harlene?" he was clearly surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"My duty," she said simply. "My superiors want me to sit in on this meeting. But I would like to ask permission of Masters Yoda and Windu first."

The three of them exchanged looks of shock. Saesee Tiin recovered first.

"If your superiors want to know more about the Jedi, you are welcome to visit our library, Observer. We are about to discuss private matters that are of no concern to you or your superiors."

In three seconds Harlene mentally ripped Tiin's horns off and shoved them in his eyes. "Whether the private matters you are about to discuss are or aren't the business of my superiors is irrelevant, Master Tiin. They have decided to make it their business. I guarantee you there's no persuading them otherwise."

Her expression remained attentive and polite but she inwardly gloated at the way Tiin's face tightened. Agen Kolar was relatively stoic but Harlene knew he was growing uncomfortable. He glanced at Obi-Wan who looked outright uncomfortable.

"If your superiors insist," Obi-Wan sounded more stiff than polite. "Then you may ask permission of Masters Windu and Yoda."

Harlene had to raise a barrier to keep herself from grinning. He was hoping Yoda and Mace would be able to scare her away! This was going to be so much fun. After nodding once she entered the Council Chambers. She ignored the looks of surprise on the Masters' faces and directly addressed Yoda.

"Greetings, Master Yoda."

"Young Observer," Yoda inclined his head politely despite the now-permanent graveness of his expression. "If questions you have, ask that you wait until evening I do. Important matters this Council must discuss right now."

"My superiors have requested me to sit in on this meeting."

She delivered the statement bluntly and didn't blink when it was greeted with yet another stunned silence. Harlene knew Mace would break it first.

"I'm afraid your superiors will have to be dissatisfied, Harlene," the Korun Master surveyed her with narrow, cold eyes. "What we are about to discuss is strictly Jedi business. You may ask your questions this evening as Master Yoda has said. Otherwise, please remover yourself from—"

"Windu."

So marked Stunned Silence From the Jedi Council number three. There would be countless of them by the time she was through but it appeared each would be greater than its predecessor if Harlene continued to cross lines like this. Mace Windu knew very well that Harlene had no love for him, but to interrupt him by harshly saying his surname without his title in front of all his peers was crossing the point of no return.

"I am only requesting permission as a courtesy," her voice lashed out like a whip and the words were spoken very slowly; a sadist who wanted to milk a torture session for all its worth. "If you would rather have me cloak myself and spy on your meetings- _that_  can be arranged very easily as well. Either way, I'll get my job done." As she said the last sentence she walked over to an empty seat beside a hologram of Ki-Adi-Mundi and sat down. "Keep in mind Masters, neither I nor my superiors want this galaxy to be destroyed. Least of all by the Sith. They may be willing to bend their own rules should the danger of that prove inevitable."

Harlene knew they wouldn't be able to resist that. And it wasn't even a lie. More like a half-truth. Several pairs of eyes widened slightly and looks were exchanged. Even Mace's stony mask had cracked to the point where he looked almost thoughtful.

"Eternally grateful of their aid we would be should they chose to give it," Yoda said. "Seek to see if we are worthy of it, do they? The reason they asked you to attend this meeting, hmm?"

Harlene graced him with an enigmatic smile. "Maybe."

"Regardless, we must discuss Jedi matters now," Mace looked like he was still seriously considering telling her to take a hike or making her. "If you stay, Harlene, you must swear an oath that nothing you hear will leave these chambers. Nothing."

There was a threat lurking in the order and Harlene could easily imagine Mace becoming Sith first should the Jedi's plans succeed. It made his self-righteous hypocrisy all the more nerve-grating.

"That would be extremely illogical, Windu," she replied calmly. "If I swear such an oath, how can I give my superiors information that can lead them to grant you and the Republic aid? Didn't Master Yoda just say you would all be eternally grateful if they gave it?"

The silence that fell was now an extremely awkward one. Several Masters shifted subtly in their seats and none of them could look at Mace whose face grew very dark. Harlene had personally seen how the Korun Master was accustomed to making people look like idiots. Though most of them had deserved it, it was high time the tables were turned.

"You may inform your superiors then," Mace said in a perfectly controlled voice. "But no one else. To that you must swear."

She could tell he was expecting her to refuse or reply with a smart-ass comment. But since he along with his colleagues was blissfully unaware of their true origins, she could comply without being dishonest. After all, they would never read Matthew Stover's book. Harlene nodded once.

"I so swear."

Mace was silent for a moment before nodding curtly at her. "Very well. Then we will proceed."

Before he could say another word a beeping sound came from the intercom. "Masters, Knight Skywalker has returned."

"Have him wait outside," Mace said. "He will be called in momentarily."

_Meaning in an hour_  Harlene thought bitterly but kept silent.

"Very disturbing it is that the Senate voted to grant the Supreme Chancellor control of the Jedi Council," Yoda said his voice almost as cold as it was grave. "Passionate about his power, he is. Seeks to gain more he does and claims it is in the name of security. The freedom of the Republic he has damaged and made due on his promises of safety he has not. Now he wishes young Skywalker to be his personal representative on this Council."

"What he wants is a spy," Mace said severely. "The Chancellor has spent years cultivating young Skywalker's trust and now he wishes to use it to his advantage. I strongly believe he wants Skywalker to give him incriminating evidence against the Jedi Council so he can use his new power to legally disband it. Maybe even the entire Order altogether."

"Anakin would never do that," Obi-Wan countered. "He is loyal to the Jedi Order. Furthermore, the Jedi have never done anything that could merit a legal disbanding—" _I could give you fifty_   _reasons off the top of my head, Kenobi_  Harlene thought. "—which makes the Chancellor's plan…if that is his plan void."

Mace seemed to consider that. "Master Kenobi, you trust Anakin, do you not?"

Obi-Wan nodded firmly. "Yes, Master Windu."

"Completely?"

Obi-Wan hesitated. "I trust him completely with the welfare of the Jedi Order."

"Then enough that may be for our own plan," Yoda said. "Give up his emergency powers the Chancellor may very well not. If too late we are to stop him, then legally become a dictator for life he could."

"That will never happen," Mace said. "If he ever tried that, we would remove him from office. By force if necessary."

_Your eyes are so passionate, Windu. And so protective. I've seen that look directed at me so many times. You're a victim of possessive love. But the object of your passion does not have your best interests in mind. It does not reciprocate your devotion. Why? Because it can't. It couldn't since the day desire claimed your heart. You are in love with a rotting corpse._

Well, maybe the Republic wasn't a rotting corpse yet. But it would be very, very soon.

"That is something we must avoid at all costs," Ki-Adi-Mundi said solemnly. "Palpatine may be a blight to democracy but he still has the support of the Republic."

"Do you mean the Republic, Master Mundi?" Mace Windu asked. "Or the Senate?"

"The Senate has been corrupt for decades," Tiin said. "But they fear Palpatine more than they revere him."

"It is the war they fear," Yoda corrected. "And carefully played on their fears, Palpatine has. Puppets they are. Nothing more. Manipulated himself into his position the Supreme Chancellor has. But untouchable he is not. Nor is he as secure as he thinks. Evidence enough it is that he requested young Skywalker to be his personal representative."

"Palpatine may be a tyrant in the making but he isn't the real threat," Agen Kolar said. "Sidious is the one who manipulated the war in the first place. But with young Skywalker's help, we can eliminate both threats at the same time."

"Agreed," Mace Windu said. "We will approve young Skywalker's appointment though he will not be granted the rank of Jedi Master. But it won't be for the reason Palpatine thinks."

"Master Windu," Obi-Wan said slowly. Cautiously. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

" _We_  are, Master Kenobi," Mace said. "The Chancellor's trust in young Skywalker is our greatest weapon against him. Once this meeting is over, you will give him this off the record assignment. He is to monitor the Supreme Chancellor's activities as thoroughly as possible. Perhaps the Chancellor will eventually confide in him his real plans in an effort to recruit him as a permanent ally."

Harlene raised all her barriers while Obi-Wan looked astonished.

"You want Anakin to…spy on the Supreme Chancellor?"

The conversation that followed was an extended version of the dialogue Harlene had read in Matthew Stover's book. Obi-Wan argued against giving Anakin the assignment due to his fierce sense of loyalty. The Council was flat-out asking Anakin to stab a friend in the back which violated his very nature. But none of them had ever liked his close relationship with Palpatine and, as Mace Windu pointed out, if taking the assignment meant creating friction or distance between Anakin and Palpatine then it would be worth it.

They made it clear that the Chosen One…their  _weapon_  obeyed the Jedi Council and the Jedi Council alone.

After Obi-Wan reluctantly agreed the Council then decided to appoint Yoda to the battle on Kashyyyk in an effort to make themselves look weaker on Coruscant and, hopefully, make Sidious show his face. Obi-Wan would also lead the hunt for General Grievous. Once Anakin was brought in and appointed the Council would then "reveal" their plans and Anakin would relay them to the Chancellor. In other words, the Council was drafting a script which would shortly become a performance and Anakin would be their audience and their bitch.

"Do you have anything to say, Observer?" Mace asked once they were done.

"Not at the present moment."

"Very well. We will allow young Skywalker entrance now."

xXx

As fervently as he tried to deny it, Anakin was angry by the time they let him in.

An hour. They had made him wait for over an  _hour_. He knew the Council was resentful of the new authority the Chancellor had over them now, but this was ridiculous. Obviously they couldn't complain to Palpatine so maybe they thought they could get some petty form of revenge by drawing out the decision as long as they could. Obi-Wan had told him that there had been tension between the Chancellor and the Jedi for quite some time, but now they were taking it out on him, someone who hadn't asked for any of this and wanted no part in these twisted political games.

Anakin walked in and the calmness he had forced onto his face shattered when he saw Harlene sitting right next to Ki-Adi-Mundi's hologram.

_What…?_

She didn't acknowledge him in any way. Her face remained perfectly blank. What in the name of the Force was she doing here? Furthermore, why was the Council letting her be here? It was dumbfounding!

"Anakin Skywalker," Master Windu's deeply severe voice shook him out of his incredulity. "The Council has decided to comply with Chancellor's Palpatine's directive, and with the instructions of the Senate that give him the unprecedented authority to command this Council. You are hereby granted a seat at the High Council of the Jedi Order as the Chancellor's personal representative."

For the second time in under a minute, the breath was stolen from Anakin's lungs. Palpatine had been right. At long last the Council understood his value and dedication to the Jedi Order. Finally they had acknowledged his accomplishments and power enough so that they would grant him his heart's desire.

"Thank you Masters," he replied in the most mature voice he could muster. It took everything he had not to glance at Harlene. He didn't care why or how she could be here. Someone who understood him as much as she cared for him was here to witness his ascension. "You have my pledge that I will uphold the highest principles of the Jedi Order."

"Allow this appointment lightly the Council does not," Yoda said. "Disturbing is this move by Chancellor Palpatine on many levels."

But Anakin was incapable of hearing the grimness in the ancient Master's words. What he wouldn't give to take Harlene's arm right now and go with her to the archives.

"I understand," he said mechanically.

"I'm not sure you do," Master Windu leaned forward, piercing Anakin with his gaze. "You are on this Council. But you will not be granted the rank and privileges of a Jedi Master."

For a long moment Anakin didn't reply. He couldn't reply. Indignation and fury locked his throat tight, making the rising smoke in the furnace of his heart threaten to choke him.

"How dare you," he said in a growl vibrating with rage. "How  _dare_ you! No Jedi in this room can match my power, no Jedi in the  _galaxy!_ You think you can deny Mastery to  _me!"_

"The Chancellor's representative you are," Yoda said sharply pointing a patronizing finger. "And it is as his representative you shall attend this Council. Sit here you may, but no vote will you have. The Chancellor's views you shall present. His wishes. His ideas and directives. Not your own.

Anakin clenched his fist, seething. "This is an insult to me, and to the Chancellor. Do not imagine it will be tolerated."

Mace Windu thrust his finger at an empty seat on his left. "Take your seat, young Skywalker."

Anakin didn't move. His glare matched the Korun Master's.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan said in an unusually gentle voice. "Please."

The request was simple and straightforward, and something in it made Anakin's anger slip through his fingers. What replaced it as he felt the previous words he had uttered echo in his mind…and the  _manner_  he had delivered them was a deep embarrassment that he tried desperately to hide by bowing his head.

"I…forgive me Masters," he mumbled and didn't feel his feet carry him to an empty seat. Something else started to gnaw at him and when he realized what it was he nearly groaned.

Harlene was here. And she had witnessed anything but a triumph.

Too mortified to move or speak, Anakin dimly listened to the Masters conversing. But he struggled to regain a sense of dignity when he heard of a droid landing on Kashyyyk.

"I can handle it," he said. "I could clear that planet in a day or two—"

"Skywalker, your assignment is  _here,"_  Mace Windu cut him off in a voice of barely suppressed hostility.

"Go, I will," Yoda said. "Good relations with the Wookies I have."

"It is settled then," Master Windu said and the reply was a little too quick. "May the Force be with us—"

"Master Windu."

All heads turned to the one who had interrupted the Korun Master.

"Forgive me," Harlene said, completely unfazed by the entire Jedi Council staring at her. "Normally I would never interrupt such an important meeting. But I find myself too confused to keep silent."

Mace squinted at her as if she were a Sith in sheep's clothing. "And why, precisely, does your confusion merit an interruption, Observer?"

"This is a democratic Council is it not Master Windu? As in, all thoughts and opinions of the present members must be taken into account?"

"What is your point?"

"I am well aware that Master Yoda is the Grand Master of the Jedi Order, and his wisdom and council should always be taken into account. But Master Windu, it seems rather dismissive of you to approve of his appointment to Kashyyyk without asking the other Council Members their opinions. Perhaps they all agree that Master Yoda is the best choice. But still, it should be put to a vote, should it not?"

The only thing that could compare to the stunned silence that followed was the one that had occurred in Anakin's dream three years ago, when he had said he would appeal to the Council's honor if he couldn't appeal to their humanity.

The only difference was that Anakin was a struck dumb as the rest of them.

_Harlene what are you doing?_  He thought as he glanced around him. Obi-Wan's eyes were wide and not just with surprise. There was also suspicion there. A lot of suspicion. The same suspicion that mirrored every Council member present. The same suspicion Anakin did not feel at all. Then it dawned on him.

The Council didn't put Yoda's offer to oversee Kashyyyk to vote because they had already done so before Anakin had been called in. They had planned this entire meeting already. It was a sham and Harlene knew it.

She was standing up for him.

Embarrassment temporarily forgotten, Anakin stared at the one-sided glaring match between Harlene and Mace.

"If anyone had any objections or believed another should go to Kashyyyk, Observer, they would have voiced their opinion," the Korun Master said in a voice cold enough to be called icy.

"But asking their opinion, putting the decision to vote is what a democratic Council does, correct?"

Mace's gaze grew even colder.  _Back down_  it said.  _Back down or there will be consequences._

"This is none of your concern."

Harlene leaned forward. "When I see a breach in democracy where democracy should be…I  _make_  it my concern, Master Windu."

She may as well have slapped him in the face with the underlying venom in her voice. Anakin noticed Obi-Wan staring at him out of the corner of his eye. Clearly he wanted Anakin to do something.

_Not this time, Master_  he thought.  _I can count the number of people who show me the respect I deserve on one hand and you expect me to chastise one who's not afraid to publicly express it?_

Harlene remained perfectly still, but even with her emotional powers, Anakin had grown skilled in reading her. She was letting the Council know that she wasn't backing down, and if they wanted to take it to more extreme levels, she would meet them all the way.

After enduring the cloying tension for nearly half a minute, Yoda spoke.

"Your good intentions I acknowledge despite your apparent presumptuousness, Observer," the ancient Master said slowly. "Ask of my fellow Council Members if they have objections to my overseeing Kashyyyk?"

There was a soft murmur of disagreement and a few shaken heads. Anakin had a feeling they were more for Harlene's benefit than Yoda's.

"Met has your satisfaction been, Observer?"

Harlene nodded and smiled. "It has, Master Yoda," she said in a cheerful tone and gave Mace an earnest look. "I meant no disrespect at all, Master Windu. I hope you know that."

The semi-polite look Master Windu now wore looked so forced Anakin wouldn't have been surprised if was using the Force to maintain it. He had to suppress a smile at the pun.

"I most certainly do," Master Windu replied through near-clenched teeth. "This meeting is adjourned. May the Force be with us all."

Anakin noticed that all of the Masters seemed absolutely determined not to look at Harlene as they left even as she filed out with them. He felt a gentle brush in his mind as she vanished through the doors.

_I'll see you later._

He should have thanked her. But as grateful as he was for what she had just done for him…he had failed. One of the biggest chances he had at saving Padme's life had just slipped through his fingers. Maybe even the only chance.

Numb and exhausted beyond measure, Anakin slumped in his seat and shook his head.

"Padme," he muttered. "Padme, what are we going to  _do…?"_

xXx

Qui-Gon waited for the girl after she completed her performance. She didn't seem the least bit surprised that he did. When she saw him again she grinned and spread her arms.

"What? Don't I get an applause?" The question was followed by a very disturbing laugh.

"What exactly are you planning to do, Harlene?" he asked as evenly as he could. "Can you  _just_ toy with their minds because of your limitations?"

"Maybe," she replied and began to tight-rope walk on a very narrow pole. "My limitations only mean that I have to be more creative. And I'm glad for it. I'd take torturing the mind over torturing the body any day."

Qui-Gon had wanted to believe that Harlene's sadistic nature had merely been a childhood phase. But she had only grown more depraved. He reached into the Force to touch her and were he still alive, what he felt would have made him very nauseous.

_Don't try to redeem her. There's nothing to redeem. Talk to her. Hear what she has to say._

He heavily disagreed with the first two statements but planned to follow through with the last two.

_Who are you really, Harlene? What is your true self?_

"You are highly skilled at manipulation," he commented. "It is far from easy to lie to a Jedi let alone the entire Council. I know they can't sense you, but  _I_  would be lying if I said it was not impressive."

She stopped walking and her grin faded. He was surprised when she gave him a troubled look.

"Yeah," she said so softly he almost didn't hear it. "Impressive."

She stared down at the pole like she was struggling with something very difficult. Qui-Gon waited patiently for her to speak.

"I'm powerful, Qui-Gon," she said at last. "I tried to deny it for years. But I'm powerful. And I'm not talking about teleportation or even my emotional barriers," when she looked up, her eyes were scared. "I can make people believe in me…trust me. Sometimes at first sight they'll react as if I'm weird or I scare them…but give me a little time and I'll know enough of their personality in order to tell them exactly what they want to hear. Give me a little more time, and they'll spill their darkest secrets to me. After that, they'll look at me differently," now her eyes were haunted. "They'll look at me like I need to be a part of their life or else they'll die. Like I've taken a vital part of their soul. I can give that part all the nourishment it could ever want or need…but I can't give it back. And they don't want to give it back. Or take it back."

Qui-Gon took a moment to consider his reply. "I did feel something when I first met you, though I wasn't sure precisely what it was. But I was drawn to you. I thought it was because of your precociousness, your powers and intelligence, and your purpose for being here. I wanted to talk to you, know you. I wanted your trust, but I wanted to trust you as well. I became more intrigued when I saw you sleeping with Anakin. He was leaning against you as if he had known you all his life. I'm sure you know that warning I gave you about the bonds you form with others was no coincidence."

"I know," she whispered.

"Rage beat at me during my duel on Tatooine. But underneath it all was more terror than you can fathom."

Harlene was silent for a long moment.

"He's attracted to me."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Maul. He made a move on me a couple of days ago."

"I honestly can't blame him," Qui-Gon smiled. "You've grown into a very beautiful young woman, Harlene."

She gave him a sardonic look. "And that's the only reason?"

"Why are you afraid of your power?"

"I'm not afraid of it, I just don't know why I have it. Yeah, I know, there is no 'why', I just have it. But it's not enough."

Qui-Gon felt relief at her lie. She cared nothing for power by itself and the prospect of having too much scared her. It appeared that certain parts of her humanity lay in unique places.

"Have you ever been tempted to use it for personal gain?"

"Qui-Gon, I'm using it right now to torture your friends."

"No, you are not," Qui-Gon said. "I said you are skilled at manipulation. But manipulation skills and charismatic powers are entirely different things."

Harlene scowled. "Go talk to Dooku. He'll give you some very interesting stories on how he tried to manipulate me into wanting to use them for selfish reasons."

"Perhaps it would be best if you told me first."

"No," Harlene put her face close to his. "Go talk to your old Master, Qui-Gon. I want you to hear what he has to say first."

xXx

"They want me to  _spy_ on the  _Supreme Chancellor of the Republic!_  Obi-Wan, that's  _treason!"_

"We are at war, Anakin," Obi-Wan still couldn't meet his eyes and looked decidedly miserable. "The Council is sworn to uphold the principles of the Republic through any means necessary. We have to. Especially when the greatest enemy of those principles seems to be the Chancellor himself!"

Anakin glared at him. "Why didn't the Council give me this assignment while we were in session? And don't say it was because Harlene was there."

Obi-Wan looked as if he dearly wanted to say something regarding Harlene right now but only sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "Anakin…this assignment is not for the record. You must be able to understand why."

"What I  _understand,"_  Anakin spat. "Is that you are trying to turn me against Palpatine. You want me to keep secrets from him. Lie to him."

"Anakin, please, it isn't like that," Obi-Wan insisted with a wounded look. "It's about keeping an eye on who he deals with, and who deals with him."

"You expect me to believe that?" Anakin shouted. "Palpatine is great man. A great man who's holding this Republic together with his bare hands and this is how you repay him!"

"Anakin, you know he's gathered dictatorial powers. He's stayed in office long after his term has expired—"

"The Senate demanded he stay! They pushed those powers on him—"

"You expect me to believe  _that?_  Stop being naïve. The Senate is so intimidated, they give him anything he wants!"

"So, the squabbling, greedy scum of the Senate doesn't have the guts to stand up to the Supreme Chancellor. Why should I care?"

"Because if they can't stand up to him, then the Jedi must.  _You_  must."

"What I  _must_  do is betray a friend. Let me ask you something, Obi-Wan: if he asked me to spy on you, do you think I would?"

If he wasn't feeling so tired and sick he would have enjoyed the speechless look on his old Master's face.

"Why are you even asking me to do this when I know damn well you don't trust me," now the betrayal had fully sunk in. He clenched his fist in anger that felt helpless. "That whole meeting, I know it was planned before I came in. Don't even try to deny it. Is that how it's going to be from now on? I'm going to be the Council's censored mouthpiece when I report to the Chancellor? Tell me Obi-Wan," a challenging smile lifted his mouth. "What's the  _Council_ hiding?"

Obi-Wan stared at him and then looked away, frowning deeply.

"We are hiding nothing, Anakin. That is the truth. And…what I am about to ask has nothing to do with the Council. They didn't tell me to interrogate you."

"Let me guess," Anakin said savagely. "Harlene."

Obi-Wan gave a small nod. "She asked to sit in on the meeting. She claims her superiors ordered her to and that they may consider aiding us should we become desperate."

"Then there's no problem. Unless the Council now has a vendetta against anyone who  _dares_  to show me a smidgen of respect."

Obi-Wan ignored him. "Anakin, I know she is your friend as well. I want her intentions to be sincere for the sake of your friendship with her and for the aid she may offer. But as a Jedi, I must trust my feelings even if they involve someone who is Force-blind. When she interrupted Master Windu…it was as if…"

Obi-Wan trailed off. Anakin narrowed his eyes.

"What? As if  _what,_  Obi-Wan?"

His old Master's shoulders slumped. "It was as if she was springing a trap. As if the only reason she attended that meeting was to wait for the perfect moment to humiliate the Council. And I know she would not have done so if you hadn't been there."

Anakin just stared.

"I won't lie to you," he continued. "The meeting was pre-arranged, but I promise you it wasn't due to anyone mistrusting you. Because of the tension between the Council and the Chancellor, we must be very careful about what we say. There can be no mistakes. Listen to me, Anakin, Harlene wanted you to know it was pre-arranged and I fear it's because she wanted you to grow angry and relay it to the Chancellor to further the gap between—"

"Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan's jaw froze as if someone had poured liquid nitrogen on it. Judging by how cold Anakin's voice was, it wasn't far from the truth. The young Jedi took a step forward, casting a shadow on his old Master's face.

"Listen and listen well," he whispered softly. "You're my best friend and the closest thing I've ever known to a father. I owe everything to you. I would die for you without a second thought. But you  _will_ leave Harlene out of this. Do I make myself clear?"

Obi-Wan didn't answer. He stared at Anakin as if he had never seen him before. Anakin moved his face closer until their noses were practically touching.

"Do I make myself clear?"

It was a long moment before Obi-Wan nodded. "Yes. But if she involves herself on her own, that's something none of us can help."

"You can help a great deal right now, Obi-Wan," Anakin said. "That's all that matters."

xXx

The hunt was going well. She estimated she would get her target in two day's time. He was smart enough to give her a decent chase.

If only he was smart enough to keep her distracted.

Then again, that would be impossible Aurra decided as she paced her ship, sipping a ration of blood (she would have gone to a bar, but the temptation to start a potentially distracting fight had been too great). She couldn't _not_ think about Harlene even while she was on the hunt. Apart from her mother, the girl was the only pleasant, peaceful thing her memory possessed. It was only natural her mind would stray to her face often. And her smile. And her touch. And her warmth. And her cheek against her breast while they slept. And her lips pressed against—

"Arrrggghhh!" Aurra hurled the cup across the room. Blood splattered the floor and table. Gripping her head, she leaned against the wall.

"Think of the pressure," she muttered to herself. "Think of the pressure…"

Aurra hated all her other memories but for the first time she willingly called a few of them forth. They would remind her that lust was nothing more than a curse of biology and brought nothing but pain. She had experienced that pain a thousand times over and would not be betrayed again least of all by her own body. Just a trick of biology.

Just another challenge.

Nothing more.

"Aurra?"

She nearly flinched. A moment later she heard a soft step closer.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Aurra turned around. The second she saw Harlene's face, an image of her running up and kissing her formed in her mind and she was helpless to stop it. When it faded she saw Harlene's face again. It was very worried and…helpless…

Heart clenching, Aurra slowly approached her and gently embraced her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "Please forgive me. I never meant…"

"It's okay," Harlene whispered back. "But if I did anything to upset you, I wish you would tell me."

"No," Aurra cupped the sides of her face, shaking her head. "No, you did nothing wrong. It was…it was all me. I promise."

Harlene looked noticeably relieved. "I'm glad about that. I couldn't stand the thought of hurting you. But is there anything you want to talk about?"

Aurra's mouth opened. If it weren't for the fear strangling her, she would have spilled everything out then and there. Turning around, she struggled to get a hold of herself.

_I can get over this. I don't need this. It's just a trick of biology. A weakness. I'm the galaxy's greatest bounty hunter. The nightmare of the Jedi. I have no weaknesses._

But she only felt sicker at the last thought since it was the most pathetic lie she had ever told herself. She had a weakness. An enormous weakness. And it was standing right behind her, patiently waiting for her to speak.

She couldn't ask Harlene about lust. The girl would put everything together and she couldn't know. The humiliation would be unbearable. But keeping it bottled up inside of her was threatening to destroy what little sanity she had left. Maybe if she asked something in relation…

Aurra took a deep breath.

"What weaknesses do you have, Harlene?"

Brief pause. "I'm sorry?"

"What weaknesses do you have?" Aurra repeated as she turned around.

Harlene was clearly surprised but un-offended. She gave a loud sigh.

"I think with my heart and never with my mind. I love unconditionally, even if the love I receive in exchange is conditional. I'm a ruthless, sadistic sociopath, and if I let that side of me have a bit more free reign, I could save myself a lot of pain. So in other words…I'm irredeemably stupid, Aurra. Those are my weaknesses all rolled into one. And you know what? I wouldn't have it any other way."

"What about the people in your life?" Aurra said when she could speak again. "The people you love. What you feel for them—you don't consider that a weakness?"

"Never," Harlene said. "They can use my love for them to hurt me at times, but that's inevitable and I accept it. Just as they accept that sometimes I hurt them. But do you know how I really know they're not a weakness?"

Aurra shook her head.

"Because I love them more than I love myself. We're designed for survival, Aurra. Our instincts push us to put ourselves over anything else. But to rise above that, to choose to rise above that…can you think of doing anything stronger?"

Aurra didn't answer right away. She slowly walked over to a wall and stared at it. "So, you're saying that strength is…rising above our instincts?"

"Not in general. And you can't get too specific. We all have needs and desires; food, shelter, happiness, love, lust—Aurra?"

"Nothing. It's nothing."

"…okay. But as I was saying, the individual self can't be ignored. I wouldn't be able to love other people if I didn't love myself. I wouldn't be the person I am if I didn't seek to fulfill my own desires. There must be a harmony between the love for the self and the love for others even if you may have to choose between the two at times. Am I making any sense at all?"

She was, but it wasn't what Aurra needed to hear. "What if…" Aurra began. "What if I feel something—an instinct that I don't want to fulfill? What if by fulfilling it, I'll only cause myself pain?"

"…I'm sorry, Aurra," Harlene said. "But I can't think of what that instinct may be. Can you be more specific?"

Heart pounding in anxiety, Aurra tried again. "What if I feel something I don't want to feel? What if by acting on that feeling, I'll only get hurt?"

Harlene smiled. "Aurra, it sounds to me that your fear of this 'instinct' of yours is because of bad experiences you've had in the past. I don't know what it is," she added quickly at the terror on Aurra's face. "And I'm not going to ask if you don't want me to know. But you might want to remember that you felt the exact same way about opening up to someone else. And physical touch. I'm here if you ever want to tell me what it really is, but for now my advice is for you to think on this instinct and consider you may be wrong about it."

"I'm not wrong," Aurra said sharply.

"I gave you the best advice I could," Harlene said gently. "Whether you choose to take it to heart is up to you."

xXx

No Force-blind could even hope to gain a shred of understanding of the true nature of the Force, let alone the magnificence of the dark side. But that would only prove a challenge to Darth Maul's plan. The dark side was channeled through passions, emotions. Harlene more than understood those despite her foolishness. Better yet, she was not afraid of them. Even without the Force, emotions could be projected and sensed by another. But with the Force, such a projection could kill a being if the emotion was powerful enough.

Maul needed a projection that strong. It was the only way he could correct her. It was the only way she could ever come close to understanding who and what he was. He wanted to see awe on her face, realization at how arrogant she had sounded when she accused him of not being Sith. Then deep remorse. That would be his revenge. But for the first time in his life, the vengeance he was planning was purely educational. He would cut off his own hands before defiling her, but she needed to understand.

_You are not Sith._

He did not hate her. A short time before his first life ended he had decided it would be pointless to do so. It was her ignorance, her naiveté, her fear, her hero-worship of the Jedi that poisoned who she truly was.

_I know who you are, Harlene Ballantine, but you do not. Let me show you my darkness and I will lead you to where you need to go._

He would ensure she became that goddess of darkness and only when she surpassed him would he bow before her. But such a transformation came about from a long process.

Deep in meditation, Maul bathed in the dark side. His anger and hate were the magnets that soaked in the power, but it was different now. He was allowing his new-found lust to absorb the darkness and the taste was nearly as sweet as Harlene's tears. He could only imagine what it would be like when they mated.

He was so attuned now he could sense anything in the factory. Every weapon, every piece of machinery, every loose stray item. He could touch them all…wait…

There was a vast emptiness in his training room. An emptiness he could see but not touch. It was so familiar because he had tried to explore it many times before and always failed. Maul withdrew from the Force and went to meet it.

"Hey," Harlene said when he arrived. She was standing in front of the open viewport. "Did you sense me?"

Before answering he embraced her from behind and nuzzled her hair. "It is almost as easy to sense the Force as it is to discover an absence in the Force."

Her hand came up to touch his cheek. "What do I feel like in the Force?"

"You are an emptiness. A void. And I cannot touch it at all. I can only see it. In the Force, you are nothingness in the purest sense," he wrapped an arm around her waist. "You knew I was meditating."

"Yes."

"And yet I find you waiting here instead of sitting by my side."

"I thought these particular meditations were a bit more personal. I didn't want to intrude."

"Your consideration is appreciated. In fact, I ask that you leave me to solitude in my meditations until I say otherwise."

"All right."

Perhaps it was his meditations, but felt particularly sensitive to her warmth. His hearts were beating faster like when he went through a lightsaber drill and pressure built up around his horns. A lesser being would spin her around and demand release because they were weak and pathetic, unable to control desires of the flesh. But he was in perfect control. And she would accept him soon all on her own free will.

"I've been thinking about what we talked about before," Harlene said. "About…you and me."

He pressed his nose to her neck. "And what conclusions did you draw?"

"I'm still uncertain."

He smiled at the strength in her voice as she uttered the statement. "You do not accept me today. But soon you will."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"I mean it, Maul," her tone carried genuine warning. "Even if I want you, that doesn't mean I want to act on it."

Suddenly he felt nothing in his arms. Looking up, he saw Harlene standing a few meters away. She was smiling.

"And either way-I like playing hard to get."

Maul focused the Force for a split second before executing a blinding sprint. But he touched only air when he was in the area Harlene had been.

"Boo."

He shot his hand out behind him. It only grazed her hair.

"You know this isn't fun at all," Harlene said in response to the frustrated, angry look on his face. "And there's more than one way to play hard to get," she ignited her blade and raised it in a salute. "Dance with me, Maul."

Nearly grinning, Maul unsheathed his sword. "As you wish."

He always made sure to come at her with a different move every time they sparred. This time he aimed a low slash at her legs. She jumped and swiped at his head. Maul ducked and thrust at her abdomen. She jerked to the right even as she turned his blade over. Maul put her on defensive using fast, aggressive moves. He had channeled quite a bit of power during the past few hours and intended to release it.

They continued their fight… _dance_  as Harlene called it and Maul soon lost track of time. Turn, flip, duck his head, flip again, block, and thrust. Spin, press their blades together, grind hard. Grind  _harder._  Sweat beading Harlene's brow. Deep concentration on her face. Thrust forward. Black eyes, so dark and intense. Flip, push forward, blades grinding. Hair wrapping around a pale, slim neck. Block, slash. Thrust lower. Deeper. Make her taste fire in her abdomen. She was gripping her handle too loosely. He would have to correct her. She needed to grip it more tightly. He swung blindingly fast for her head and it surprised her. Her mouth parted as she ducked. She avoided the blow, barely, the tip of his blade nearly grazing her open lips. Flip over, kick out. Slash three times and then thrust forward again. Now she was gripping the handle tighter. Much better. But she was using only one hand to grip it. She should be using both. He wanted her to use both. If she didn't start using both soon he would get very, very frustrated.

Maul spun his weapon over his head and brought it down. She flipped to the right and held the blade out with one hand. With a snarl, he grabbed her arm and twisted it. He felt her free hand slap his wrist before fire consumed his arm.

They broke apart. Harlene immediately extinguished her blade and stared at him with a near-horrified expression. Maul held his lightsaber loosely in his right hand and looked at the electrical burn on his left arm. It began at the top of his wrist and extended nearly to his elbow. His glove, sleeve and skin were a charred mess but the nerves were still intact. The arm was completely useless and the agony radiating from it made dark spots appear in the corners of his vision.

"I…I can take care of that."

He looked up and saw Harlene pointing at the burn. She looked very remorseful and it angered him. "Do not be sorry," he rasped. "Save your regret for yourself when you hold back."

Instead of appearing chastised she glared at him. "Maul, I need to heal it right away."

She was right. If he channeled the dark side, he could still fight for a few minutes at the most but with such an injury he would eventually drive himself unconscious. He nodded curtly at Harlene and she went up to him, taking his good arm. Suddenly he found himself staring at the interior of his medical room.

"This is going to take a bit longer than usual," Harlene gestured to the cot. "It'd be best if you were comfortable. And it would be easier for me."

Maul sat down on the cot without a word. Harlene pulled up a chair and smiled at him. "Just like old times, huh?" without waiting for a reply, she took his left arm and examined the burn. "There's quite a bit of cloth cooked in there," she murmured and extended the fingers of her free hand towards his forearm. Blue sparks were glowing at her fingertips.

"What are you doing?" Maul asked but made no move to pull his arm back.

"I can remove the cloth telekinetically but it will be torture if I do it without numbing your arm. You don't need to waste your anesthesia," her glowing fingers made contact with his arm. "You won't feel it at all for the next few minutes."

The pain vanished a second later and if Maul were blind he would have thought his forearm had been severed. He stayed quiet as Harlene worked. It only took a couple of minutes to strip the injury and less time to heal it. When it was over he flexed the fingers of a now perfectly functioning left hand and then looked at Harlene.

"How does it feel?"

Maul stared at her face. Her skin. Her lips and hair. He realized that for the first time he wasn't wearing one of his gloves in her presence. He reached for her face and felt her skin. It was soft but not tender. Very appealing skin. His thumb feathered her cheek before he ran his fingers through her hair and nearly fisted a handful of it. He returned to her face, this time running his thumb over the hair on her brow. It felt slightly coarser than her scalp hair. His eyes flickered to the lashes on her closed lids. Very tenderly he glided his thumb over them. They were incredibly soft.

"So, you like my hair, huh?"

Her right eye was open and she was smiling at him.

"It is fascinating," Maul responded while examining the strands he was rubbing between his fingers. "And unique. All in all, it is a very aesthetically appealing physical trait."

Her smile broadened. "When I was a little girl, I thought sentient creatures apart from humans were just myths. Now I find myself surrounded by so many different kinds. And I've found that they all have physical traits that are very aesthetically appealing. In their own unique way."

Maul ceased his movement when he noticed she was staring at his head, or more specifically, the crown of horns ringing it. Her gaze held deep curiosity. Slowly, she extended her hand towards them and Maul held his breath. Then she stopped, realizing what she was doing and looked at him, asking permission. Maul masked his eagerness before nodding. He felt a very uncomfortable spike of warning in his stomach but it vanished when Harlene's index and middle finger made contact with a horn.

This touch was…quite different he quickly found out. It made him powerless to control the shudder that ran through his entire body and the warmth he received from it didn't stop at his skin or even his bones. It was falling and seemed to gain momentum as it got lower and lower. An involuntary sound was gathering in the back of his throat.

_Stop her._

Harlene didn't seem to notice his reaction. She was utterly preoccupied with the horn she was exploring. She caressed all the ridges as if trying to commit them to memory and brushed the sharp tip. Wave after wave of warmth joined the first and it was becoming very difficult to stop the building sound- _groan_  in the back of his throat. Her finger trailed from the tip and slowly ran downward. Maul knew he should stop her before she reached the highly sensitive ring of skin around the horn but he was more than tempted to let her continue. This touch, these sensations; they were unlike anything he had ever felt before.

_Stop her._

She touched the flesh that had been left unmarked during his tattooing and he gritted his teeth to stop the groan. Her finger circled around and he clenched his fist. The warmth was now a blazing heat but even more urgent was the pressure. It was building second by excruciating second. He had to stop her but found he couldn't move his body. Sweat beaded his forehead and a trickle of it ran down his back. The pressure grew unbearable and he still couldn't move. He could only try desperately to focus on anything,  _anything_  but the soft fingertip that was gently tickling one of the most sensitive areas on his body. Finally after an eternity, the finger lifted and made contact with another horn.

" _Enough."_

Harlene gasped as Maul grabbed her wrist in a painful grip.

"Maul…!"

He took in everything at once. Her hair, her wide eyes, her pale lovely skin and those parted lips. The fire roaring through him urged him to grab her, flip her over, ravish her,  _take_  her—

"Get out," he croaked.

"Maul, what-?"

"GET OUT!"

She vanished and he flew to his feet, stumbling forward. He grabbed the wall for support and slammed his forehead against it, gasping. The fire didn't abate. It licked every nerve with an unquenchable hunger, threatening to burst from his skin. He reached for the Force and struggled to release the fire into it. The seconds passed like hours as he pushed flaming tongue after flaming tongue into the Force. It was so exhausting that he eventually fell unconscious. When he awoke he was lying on the floor, shivering in sweat-soaked clothes. He pushed himself up and growled in fury when he still felt pressure in his lower regions. Sitting back down, he began to meditate. This was nothing. Just a bodily reaction. It was nothing he couldn't control.

Maul closed his eyes but before he could immerse himself in the dark side, images began to form in his mind. Very vivid images.

_Harlene in his arms. Kissing her. Running his hands down her back._

_Harlene on top of him. Straddling him. Her lips and hands against his naked chest and stomach._

Maul snarled and shoved the images away. He was a Dark Lord of the Sith. He cared nothing for pleasure and the purpose of intercourse was to fuel passion. That was all. That was  _all._

_Bare bodies pressed together. Limbs entwined. Harlene moaning his name as he pushed himself into her._

The pressure grew. With a roar, he jumped up and stormed into the bacta room. Teeth and fists clenched to the point of pain, he leaned his back against the cold wall and looked down at the bulge in his pants. He loathed it with everything he had but it still wouldn't go away. Finally he slipped his hand inside and gripped himself.

He couldn't do it. He would die from shame. There had to be another way.

The silence screamed at him as his hand moved to cup his scrotum. "There is no pain where strength lies," he said in a muttered whisper and squeezed.

The agony bellowing up his stomach was almost relieving. He squeezed harder and the pressure died down. He continued to squeeze until it was completely gone. When it was over he sagged against the wall, panting.

Harlene had touched him. Aroused him. And she didn't even know it.

_What have I done?_

The shame was as unbearable as the fire but he embraced it as he stormed from the medical room. Just as he embraced the hot throbbing in his groin that jarred with every step he took.

"Maul?"

He hadn't noticed her standing by the doorway. Maul bared his teeth but didn't turn around.

"I told you to leave."

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. Now leave."

Brief pause. "It was fully taken care of, wasn't it?"

Maul felt his stomach drop to the planet core. He whirled around and all but screamed,  _"What!"_

Harlene blanched, mouth gaping open. "Your  _arm,"_  she practically spat in irritation. "In case you've forgotten, I put a third degree electrical burn on it not half an hour ago."

So, she suspected nothing. It only made him feel ill. "Leave, Harlene," he ordered. "Leave now."

"Maul—"

"I said LEAVE."

She did. Maul made his way to his training room meaning to tear apart every droid he possessed. But he knew it would only release his rage, not his shame.

He had betrayed Harlene. In a moment of unthinkable weakness, he had allowed her to touch him intimately without her knowing it. He had broken his vow and violated her trust. And if she found out…

His shame became a physical pain when he realized he would never tell her. He couldn't. She would leave and that was the one thing he couldn't let her do. All the same he had to redeem himself. He had to reclaim his honor.

Somehow.

xXx

"When I told him, he didn't even let me finish. He looked at me…and I saw a protectiveness on his face that surpassed anything I've ever seen him express for anyone."

"Even Palpatine?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "Even Palpatine."

As Masters Yoda and Windu contemplated what they had just been told, Obi-Wan let out a weary breath of relief that they hadn't asked for specific details or else he would have had no choice but to tell them that the protectiveness Anakin had displayed for the Observer made whatever protectiveness he had for Palpatine seem like hostility in comparison.

Or that his former Padawan had silently added 'or I'll kill you' to the warning he had uttered mere hours ago.

"An asset or a danger I am still uncertain this is," Yoda said. "But valuable it is to know that more influence on young Skywalker the Observer has than Palpatine himself."

"With all due respect Master, I believe it is a danger," Obi-Wan said. "You both saw what she did in the Council Chambers and now Anakin knows the meeting was planned from the start. I have faith he will not tell Palpatine but who knows what she could do next."

"Much as I hate to disagree," Mace said. "I think she did it only because she was angry at us for not granting Skywalker the rank of Master."

Obi-Wan blinked in astonishment. "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know her as well as I'd like to, but I've seen and experienced that she does not keep ill feelings she harbors for anyone a secret, no matter who they are. If she had malevolent intentions, why not confront us? Or spy on our meetings?"

He had a point. The Observer could have spied on their meeting without anyone being the wiser, but Obi-Wan was still skeptical.

So was Yoda. "True that may be, but certain we are not. What is certain is that ignore what the Observer has done we cannot. Confront her, we must and discover her true motivations should she prove a threat or an asset."

"What do you propose?" Obi-Wan asked. "If we confront her, we'll have to do it carefully."

"Summon her we cannot," Yoda said. "But necessary that will not prove. Whether for good or ill her motives are, decided to involve the Jedi she has. Come before the Council again, she will," Yoda's eyelids closed until they were slits. "And prepared we shall be."

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

" **So concludes round one. And the score so far; Harlene: one, Jedi Council: zero."**

" **It's fortunate for her that she never made an effort to get to know any of them well. Otherwise they would be more open to the possibility that she's deceiving them."**

" **But they're more than open to the possibility that she's antagonizing them on Anakin's behalf. Or that she's using Anakin to cause more friction between the Council and Palpatine as Obi-Wan guessed. But God help the poor slob who so much as suggests that theory to Anakin."**

" **My apprentice's relationship with that miserable brat is a perfect example of the quickest and easiest way to cultivate loyalty: make the person need you more than they will ever love you. You do that and they'll never be able to process you betraying them even if you do."**

" **That's not ultimate loyalty, though. With loyalty like you mentioned, they will do anything for you except something that will remove you from their lives or them from your favor."**

" **Exactly. If the wielder continues to cultivate loyalty through the quick and easy path, then they will lead an army consisting of naught but weak, pathetic cowards."**

" **It isn't Harlene's fault, but she will have to do something about that."**

" **She's strong. And she wants her** _ **Star Wars**_ **friends to be strong too. So far the only strong ones she possesses are Nick Rostu and Kar Vastor. But the others have potential to be strong. I never would have let those relationships carry on if I doubted that."**

" **What's your definition of strong? Or I should say, when will you be satisfied?"**

" **I will be satisfied when they are able to live without her."**

" **That's going to take a** _ **very**_ **long time."**

" **Harlene has enough time. It will be a long while before she needs all of her friends to be strong."**

**xXx**

The strand of energy web was nearly stripped of all raw glitterstim. There were about ten more left on the entire web altogether. Kar estimated it would take fifteen hours at the most before the web was polished off. It was extremely tempting to take his time and delay the process. Another prisoner could get away with four hours at the most. But not him. The Colicoids didn't wait for excuses to further his torment, but doing anything to provoke them was the stupidest thing a Force-sensitive prisoner could do under their watch.

He wiped sweat from his constantly perspiring forehead and peeled a particularly large stone off and brought it close to his eyes for as long as he dared, letting the starved oculars soak up the pale blue glow. It brought a pathetic sense of relief from darkness so cloying he could barely make out the outlines of his own hands even in the light of the energy web. Not even glowrods were allowed in Kessel. Entering the mines, one had to rely on the footsteps of a prisoner who knew where he was going, or find their own way and hope that eventually the faint light of an energy web would be their guide.

And that said energy web was not currently occupied by an energy spider.

A rustle echoed in the distance. Kar's head snapped to the right and he clenched his fist in preparation to fight for his life and to maintain the will power needed to withstand the hideous darkness without going mad. No more than half a minute passed before he turned back to the energy web with a small groan. Every time he stared into it for longer than a moment, a past conversation replayed in his mind. Mocking him.

_I know what darkness is._

_You don't know what real darkness is. You know how I know that? Because you didn't just survive the jungle, you thrived in it, in its darkness. You lived and breathed it. If you even tried to live and breathe real darkness, you would become a twisted psychopath or a broken, blubbering pile of mush._

_There is nothing darker than the jungle. NOTHING! You are even worse than Mace Windu if you believe otherwise. I always thought you less a fool than him, but you still prove yourself to be as arrogant as you are ignorant. You have learned nothing._

_Normally I would relish your blustering since within a week's time you'll be eating your words with a rusted dagger. But there are few people I would wish my past condition on, and you aren't one of them despite all that you've done._

_You honestly believe darkness is not being able to feel emotion?_

_No. If you want to know what real darkness is, then look into the blackness of Kessel's spice mines and ask yourself what you feel._

He did. And the answer could be summed up in a single word: nothing.

It terrified him more than the jungle ever had.

Months had passed before he had conceded to Harlene that she had been correct. She hadn't gloated. She hadn't even smiled. Instead a haunted look had entered her eyes like a condemned woman who knew the truth and couldn't help but wish desperately to go back to being blissfully ignorant. Kar didn't blame her a bit.

Another rustle, didn't follow the first, but there was definitely an energy spider further down the tunnel. One had attacked him three days ago and his hands were still cracked and raw enough to stain the glitterstim he was handling with flecks of blood. The only thing he could do was move further down, pummel and wrestle with the spider until it slunk away, and hope the battle wouldn't make him collapse from exhaustion or kill him. He could also ask Harlene to weaken it a bit…

He stopped that line of thought and a low snarl rumbled in the back of his throat. He began to work faster, dropping stone after stone into the pail beside him. For the past month, his mind had been preoccupied with the girl more than usual. Another man would be weeping tears of gratitude for any form of distraction from the hellish mines but intense frustration was no reprieve to Kar.

_Why did I tell her?_  He growled under his breath.  _Why did I tell her?_

He trusted her, yes. He would even go so far as to say he trusted her implicitly. But it wasn't enough. Not even everything she had done for him here was reason enough. Nothing would be reason enough to—

He stopped again, shut his eyes, reopened them and continued to work at a slower pace. He shouldn't be thinking like that. It was too arrogant and far too ungrateful. There was no way he could ever repay Harlene for all she had done. And it wasn't what she had done per se that made him feel so indebted to her. From all he had gleaned of her personality in the four months he had known her before he had been sentenced to Kessel…he had been certain that someone like her would have been perfectly

_(justified)_

content to let him rot.

He remembered being drugged and chained in a cold cell, awaiting his sentence. Stripped of his power, the presence of the jungle and any sense of familiarity whatsoever, his rage at the Balawai, Mace Windu, the Jedi and the Republic had provided no solace. His fear at what awaited him had surpassed his fear during his exile in the jungle. The jungle had at least been familiar. But this environment was totally alien and he had felt so trapped…

Then she came to visit him. She, who had scorned his leadership, his callousness, and his treatment of his soldiers, she who blamed him for the death and near-death of two of her friends, she whom he had ached to kill so many times and as much as any Balawai scum had stopped by his cell to talk and not gloat.

She told him about Kessel. How the wardens despised Force-users, the darkness, the numbing cold and various other tortures. How his inability to speak without the Force would render him incapable of verbally communicating with anyone. How other convicts would avoid him like the plague since any form of association with a Force-sensitive prisoner could mean a death sentence or worse. Her voice remained flat the entire time. Then as she turned to leave, his terror had reached its peak. They hadn't been friends. At the most he felt grudging respect and an even more grudging kinship for her. But it had been enough for him to beg her to visit him.

Yes. He had begged. But even in Kessel, where past pride and dignity were but myths, he would never admit so out loud.

Not only had Harlene said yes, but she made sure to come at least every two weeks and did everything she could to ameliorate his misery without arousing suspicion, no matter how little. Even without the Force, his metabolism could handle deeply rotten and disease-ridden food and water, but what the jungle had produced had been naturally rotten and diseased-ridden. A very short time had passed before he found himself looking forward to the clean sustenance that Harlene brought. She healed major injuries as much as she dared and when he had unintentionally let slip which Colicoids liked to have the most fun with him, she made sure they had accidents every now and then. The latter deeply bruised pride he shouldn't have, but she had bluntly pointed out there was nothing he could do to stop her.

Yet that was a minor humiliation compared to all the others. After experiencing practically everything Kessel had to offer, he had tried to threaten Harlene into never entering his cell if he didn't give permission. Needless to say, she had refused. Deep down he knew he should be grateful. If he didn't recover from a session soon enough, he would be forced to work in the mines regardless. After two years he still couldn't decide if her help was worth her seeing him utterly helpless with broken limbs, torn muscle and shivering in his own filth no matter how respectful or unpitying she treated him. The most memorable incidents, however, started when he had tried to escape. He had been caught and the Colicoids had placed him in a sensory deprivation room where not even an energy web was present to maintain his sanity in the pure darkness. It seemed as if an eternity had passed before he heard Harlene enter and at first he thought he had hallucinated her in his rapidly growing madness. But what made him unable to look her in the eye during her next few visits was that it had marked the first and only time the words 'help me' had burst from his mouth.

He resented her help as much as he was grateful for it. He had never wanted to get close to her despite his plea. He hated her ability to draw him into a conversation with almost no effort. He hated that she was able to read him like an open book and bluntly point out aspects about himself he would never admit upon pain of torture and death. But he didn't hate  _her_  so perhaps it was inevitable they would eventually bond and form a genuine friendship. And that a friendship would lead to discussing many things including each other's lives. Harlene was very open about hers and never seemed to mind that he was the exact opposite. Though he told her more about his than he ever thought he would, he never revealed any deep secrets.

That is until last month.

Somehow their conversation had strayed to his deceased family and he had felt a surge of pain that couldn't be channeled into rage. Kessel was to blame of course. In the jungle, pain and rage were synonyms. In Kessel, you felt pain and hiding it was a joke so of course Harlene had seen it. She had then asked 'what happened?'

That was all. She hadn't inquired about anything else. Just those two simple words. But it was that look she gave him. That compelling, mesmerizing look. It wasn't the first time he had seen it and yet that time it had been different. It had felt far more powerful. Powerful enough to make him forget all reason and instinct.  _Tell me_  it said.  _Tell me everything you are. You can trust me with anything. I will always understand. Always._

_And you want me to understand, don't you?_

Within five minutes, Harlene became the only person apart from himself and the jungle prospectors who had murdered his clan to ever know what happened to his family that terrible night. And he hadn't stopped there. In fifteen minutes she became the only living soul to know what had happened to  _him_  after that terrible night. How he survived the massacre.

And how he survived the  _tan pel'trokal._

A loud splat echoed through the mines as a glitterstim stone was pelted into a metal bucket. Kar began working at top speed again, determined to think about anything other than what had spilled from his mouth that day. By the time his shift was over, exhaustion and searing thirst made certain of that.

The gasps and groans of his fellow prisoners echoed around him as they all filed out of the caves. His thirst was so terrible he didn't even notice when his eyes were greeted with beautiful light again. He piled the day's deposits into the carts that would be shipped to the nitrogen vats. His kept his eyes downcast and his posture submissive as they were led to the sterilization rooms but occasionally glanced at the Colicoid guards. He was relieved to see Jul Tir and Oun Qar were nowhere to be seen. Maybe he would get a few sips of water before being sent back to his cell.

Kar stripped off his trousers at the command of a guard and gritted his teeth against the spray of disinfectants that made him imagine a swarm of wasps constantly driving their stingers into the wounds that left practically no square inch of skin unmarred. The Colicoids' laughter made him wonder if they would allow him his trousers back. The notion of modesty was nonexistent to him but prolonged exposure to the tortures of Kessel tended to make one care about any scrap of dignity they could maintain. More importantly, the scant clothing he was allowed was the only protection he had against the freezing temperatures of his cell.

The sprays turned off. Kar stood in silence, fighting against his body's need to shiver as the rapidly cooling temperatures attacked his damp naked form. His pants were tossed back to him and he quickly put them on. He made to follow the other prisoners who were being led to the meal room when he felt a sharp blast of pain on his back that drove him to his knees.

A taunting click-click-click of laughter sounded behind him.

"Clumsy, clumsy, Jedi."

Kar snarled. He loathed to be called that and every Colicoid and prisoner on Kessel knew it. As he struggled to get up, four purple-gray single-clawed talons appeared in his line of vision. A tiny, hard appendage gripped his chin, forcing his face up. He bared his teeth at amused, depraved orange eyes.

"How much did you get today, Jedi?" Jul Tir inquired in a honey-sweet voice. "I wasn't watching today and I want to know. Tell everyone how many precious blue stones have been rendered useless thanks to these filthy," he stomped one claw onto Kar's right hand, puncturing it, "soft, plushy hands of yours? Tell me how many, Jedi."

Only the memories of the sensory deprivation room kept his rage in check yet he felt he would have sold his soul for a chance to show the miserable insect how soft and plushy his hands really were. Jul knew it of course and it only fed the Colicoid's amusement.

"I said tell me how many, Jedi." Jul tapped a raw area on his shoulder with his electrostaff. Now the skin was burned as well as cut. "Tell me how many?"

Kar knew he was being mocked for his inability to speak. He could tell the insect exactly what he thought of him without fear of being understood, but they wouldn't need to understand to know his meaning and the punishment would be inevitable. The smartest way to handle the situation was to keep silent and hope his tormentors would grow bored.

"It's not answering me." Jul sounded almost like he was pouting. Then he shrieked, "Blood! On its hands! It ruined the glitterstim! Send it back to its cell! No food or water! Make it crawl!"

Kar was shocked in the back again as several Colicoids clicked and hissed at him to start crawling. They all knew very well that raw glitterstim could only be ruined by light. Though they didn't need an excuse to humiliate him, they sometimes liked to make them up. His fresh burns throbbed as he pushed himself onward.

_This is more than you deserve._

"Faster!" A guard snapped and raked a talon across his back.

_But I'm glad you now remember what it's like to be viewed as expendable._

"Don't stop." The second guard jabbed him in the arm with an electrostaff.

_It's not very pleasant to have someone hurt you just because they can, is it?_

_Damn you, Harlene Ballantine._

When he finally heaved his exhausted body into his cell, the guards slammed the door shut. He slumped on the floor and lay there unable to feel the biting cold for a few minutes and only because he was too distracted by weariness and thirst. It seemed like hours before he could sit up again. A gasp was wrenched from his parched throat as his new injuries were disturbed by the movement. Time always slowed when his thirst grew desperate. Harlene would be coming soon. Surely it had been two weeks since her last visit.

A soft scrap/tapping suddenly sounded outside his cell. Morse Code Harlene called it. He had found such a subtle form of communication fascinating and she had offered to teach it.

Relief flooding him, he bade her enter. Their interactions over the next few moments were nearly reminiscent to the beginning of her last visit and countless visits before that. Only this time he didn't attempt to refuse the protein bar and fruit she offered.

"You know, now that I think about it, you  _have_  begged God knows how many times since you first came here," she mused. "But I guess they don't count since you were begging for physical sustenance, not emotional sustenance."

He tore off a hunk of flesh from the fruit and fanaticized it was her neck.

"Let me look at those," she said when he was finished. Despite his anger, he remained passive as she took care of any underlying muscle damage and stopped the bleeding of the talon scratches. When she was finished, his burns remained fresh, but the pain was more manageable. Harlene drew back from him a bit and frowned.

"I should come sooner."

_Don't start again,_  he growled.  _I am weary of this argument. We cannot afford to arouse suspicion. And I am never on death's door every time you arrive as you exaggerate. The Colicoids are far too entertained by me being that I am the strongest Force-sensitive prisoner they have ever managed._

"Maybe just a couple of days earlier—"

_No._

"Kar—"

_No!_  He snapped.  _You are not coming sooner. Don't ask again._

She didn't seem taken aback by his vehemence, instead smiling softly. "Why do I get the feeling that you're a lot more concerned by something else other than arousing suspicion?"

Even if he was at full strength and back in the jungle where his fury could be transformed into a near-physical entity, he wouldn't be able to intimidate her into silence. For the first time he found himself wishing he could look as bored and uninterested as she did when he tried to. In the end he settled for ignoring her.

"The remainder of our last meeting passed rather pleasantly." He didn't answer. "But emotions can be fickle. It can take time for things to really sink in." He clenched his fist and didn't reply. "Sulking doesn't suit you, Kar. I thought you were more mature than that."

_Shut up_  he thought.  _Shut up._

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Incredulity flooded him and destroyed his determination to not give into her goading.

_Do I want to talk about it?_  He repeated with slow menace, boring his furious gaze into hers.  _Do I want to talk to you? I_ did _talk to you, you disingenuous brat. And now you know._ He grabbed her shoulders, putting them nearly nose to nose.  _You know everything there is to know. Is that not enough? What more do you want from me!_

He half expected to be punched into the wall again but Harlene's eyes were gentle and understanding.

"Kar, is me knowing what happened to you really such a bad thing? You're anything but alone. You know I was molested too. And I lost my first family."

_Did you see your mother, your father, your aunts and uncles slaughtered like animals? Did you see your older sister and two young brothers tortured and raped before your very eyes? Were you stripped and sodomized while the laughter of your enemies rang in your ears? Was the only reason you escaped from that terrible carnage because for the slightest moment your enemies' focus was purely on murdering everyone else you ever knew and loved? Did you run naked into the jungle with their screams echoing behind you and cursing your cowardice to the darkest of hells?_  His lips peeled off his teeth.  _Don't you dare tell me I am not alone. Don't you dare say you understand._

"I don't understand how you felt." Her voice chilled. "But I do understand that you are very self-absorbed. I don't know what happened to my family and not a day passes where I don't wonder, where I don't wish I knew. Anything is better than not knowing. But that sure as hell doesn't mean I think I'm superior to you. Even if someone's pain is less than mine, that doesn't mean they're incapable of feeling pain. We all feel pain in different ways. But me not fully understanding isn't the reason why you're so freaked out. You said last time you didn't regret telling me, and I believe you don't." That knowing smile was back. "Or maybe that's exactly what's wrong."

He could tear her in half right now. He was strong enough. He could silence her forever.

"You're not asking 'why did I tell you?'. You're asking, 'why don't I regret that I told you?' But the former question is a lot less complex than the latter. The same thing goes for the answer, I'm sure. You're not used to dealing with complex things, are you?"

_That is where you are wrong,_  he snarled.  _I have put up with you for two years, even though I feel you could drive me insane as effectively as this place._

"I love you too, Kar. But seriously, do you feel any regret whatsoever that you told me?"

Slowly, his grip loosened.  _No._

"How did you feel after you told me? You didn't start freaking out until my last visit."

_Yes, your spell does in fact take a bit of time to fade, Observer_  he thought bitterly but did ponder the question. It took a moment for him to say the answer out loud.

_I felt relieved. I am glad I told you. I am glad you know._

"And you should be feeling the exact opposite," Harlene said with a touch of sarcasm. "You should feel that you told me in a moment of pure weakness, and that weakness needs to be rectified." She sighed and shook her head. "Nobody panics when things go according to plan. Even if the plan is horrifying."

_I am not panicking,_  he said in an annoyed growl.  _And you have been ruining my plans over the past two years without even trying._

"You never intended—you never wanted to get this close to me," she finished.

_No,_  he replied.

"Why?"

_It's nothing personal. I simply am not that kind of man._

"You wanted Mace to be your friend. You were attracted to Depa to the point where I doubt there was nothing you wouldn't have done to gain her affection." Her face darkened. "But the moment Mace dared to stand up to you, the only thing that kept him alive was Depa's love for him. And even though you never forced yourself on her, you had enough influence on Depa to be in control. But you can't control me. You never could. Just like you can't kill me."

_I don't want to kill you, Harlene, I—_

"So I know how you escaped the massacre of your clan and survived  _tan pel'trokal._  We've crossed a line well into your comfort zone. Our bond has grown deeper. Now what? You want to go back to the way things were before? How about going back to Haruun Kal where you could just rip the head off of anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way?"

_I never—_

"So any relationship you have with anyone has to be precisely on the terms you set and if not the other person can just fuck off and die. Go on. Deny it. I want you to deny it."

_I am denying it!_  He roared.  _Did_   _you not hear me say I don't want to kill you?_

"Oh, thanks so much, so what  _do_  you want then?" she demanded in an almost wounded voice. "Do you want to regret everything we shared? Do you want to go back to keeping me at arms-length? Well? What is it, Kar!"

He was hurting her again. Just like last time. His anger and frustration remained strong but she deserved to know the truth.

_I don't bond deeply with others, Harlene. I just don't._

"Well you have," she said bitterly. "It doesn't matter if you don't. You  _have._  So, what are you going to do about it?"

Kar turned away from her to look at his hands, bloody and cracked. He would have to fight that energy spider tomorrow. But he remembered from what seemed an eternity ago, the first thought he had the first time he had been injured in Kessel; that without his power the wounds would erupt in jungle-born fungus.

He didn't have thoughts like that anymore. The jungle wasn't gone in his mind, but it was far enough away that most of the time it seemed like it was gone. He didn't ache for it anymore. There was only Kessel, where the pain he endured was inflicted by rational creatures. The mines themselves weren't the jungle. Save for the energy spiders, they were a void.

Kessel had taken a lot away from him. He had known it would. It was why he had asked Harlene to visit him. Over the past two years, she had earned his trust, respect, affection and friendship. But after he told her how he became who he was, he began to realize that he had willingly given up other parts of himself.

_We would not have bonded this way on Haruun Kal,_  he said.

"No," she agreed. "We wouldn't have."

_Because of our relationship, I am less the man I was before._

"Is that a bad thing?" she shrugged. "All relationships require sacrifices, Kar. That is, relationships you want to nurture and maintain." Her eyes narrowed. "I know you wanted friendships and connections before. But you were unwilling, or maybe even unable to give in order to get."

Kar nodded.  _I could tell you to go away forever right now and you would, wouldn't you?_

"Yes. Do you want me to?"

He felt a variety of emotions at the question and made no effort to sort them out.

_It would be an act of cowardice. I have changed and I can either accept it or run from it._  He reached for her face.  _And I have no desire to lose you. If sacrifices are required to keep you beside me, then they are sacrifices worth making._

"Do you know exactly what those sacrifices are?"

_No. But I don't have to know. There is nothing I wouldn't sacrifice for you._

"Thank you," she said simply, but the gratitude in her voice was unbounded. "But Kar, you know you can't accept that our relationship has changed and then go back to pretending it hasn't."

_I know,_  he replied.  _I have no intention of doing so._

She smiled. There was relief in it and he was immediately curious.

_Why do you look at me that way? Did you expect me to be in denial?_

"Kind of. Nearly all the friends I have here are beyond immature and childish. They can't be really blamed because of the lives they've been forced to lead, and they're beginning to make more of an effort, but it's still so refreshing. You and Nick and the only living mature friends that I have here."

_You have very low standards if you believe Nick Rostu is mature,_  he remarked darkly.

"No, I just don't have a black and white perspective on maturity. Speaking of Nick, he asked about you recently."

Before Kar could reply a chiming rang from Harlene's comm. "Sorry," she muttered and answered it.

" **Harlene. You need to come back now,"**  a woman's voice said.

"Has there been another attack?" Harlene asked not without dread.

" **The opposite for once. A CAA terrorist strike was thwarted not five minutes ago. I'd give details, but I think it'd be best if you came home first."**

Kar, knowing full well what the CAA was, exchanged looks with Harlene.

" **Your shift is already over,"**  the woman continued. Her voice was strong and clear and carried an overt power and allure that was the exact opposite of Harlene's subtlety.  **"I thought I'd tell you right away being that the rest of your friends are here."**

"I'll be there," Harlene said fervently. There was a very deadly gleam in her eyes. "God, I hope their faces were caught on video. Was it because of Daemon's information?"

" **It was."**

Harlene gave an exaggerated sigh of relief. "Well, at least now we don't have to worry about the President making due on his threat to incarcerate us."

At those words, Kar's head snapped up.  _What do you mean 'incarcerate' you?_  He demanded.

There was a brief moment of silence.

" **Harlene, is Kar Vastor there with you?"**

Harlene smiled sheepishly while Kar scowled at being recognized so quickly by the sound of his growl.

"Yeah. Sorry, Claire. I should have told you first."

" **Don't worry about it. And Kar, don't pounce on my apprentice after this conversation is over. Rest assured she will be incarcerated over my dead body."**

Kar blinked and looked at Harlene who shrugged helplessly.

" **I'll also say this: you can stop worrying about her driving you insane. If she hasn't by now, she never will."**

This was Harlene's mentor he immediately realized. Claire Selton. Harlene had spoken of her many times and always with the deepest respect. Her last statement was obviously meant in jest, but for some reason his hackles stirred warily. Harlene could have shared aspects of their relationship with her mentor even if she never divulged his most private secrets. But the way she spoke…it was like the woman knew more than she should.

_I will keep that in mind,_  he replied simply and Harlene repeated his words. He nearly told the woman on the other end that she had raised an exceptional if infuriating apprentice. It was true of course, and the inevitable blush from Harlene alone would have made it worth it. But he didn't and made no effort to consider why.

"Now you know where I get my bluntness from," Harlene remarked after she bade farewell to her mentor.

_Indeed,_  Kar replied.  _I will not pounce on you as your mentor put it, but what is this about incarceration?_

Harlene looked a bit guilty. "I left that part out when I told you about Claire's spy. The President called me in for questioning regarding what Claire told him about Daemon. It's his job to find out if any of his soldiers are holding back information, after all. He knows as much as I do, but he warned me that Claire and I would be incarcerated if Daemon's information didn't produce results."

_Then your President is a fool,_  Kar growled.  _You and your mentor are risking everything to keep your country safe. If he does not see that—_

"He  _does_  see that," Harlene snapped and he was surprised at the level of indignation on her face. "Didn't you hear what I said? He's trusting us even if he thinks we're withholding information from him, and Claire's been withholding the existence of Daemon for years. A narrow-minded, self-absorbed leader who followed the rule book through and through would have arrested Claire the instant she told him about Daemon. Claire and I are putting our careers, our freedom and maybe our lives on the line but so is the President! If this fails, he could be stripped of his rank or imprisoned for going outside the law like this. Don't you  _dare_ call him a fool!"

Her eyes were blazing to the point where Kar braced himself for her to make her displeasure known physically. When she didn't, he gave her a grave nod.

_I apologize._

Harlene nodded in turn, but her gaze remained hard. "You have changed for the better, but you really need to work on that black and white thinking. I was once as guilty of it as you are, but I realized soon enough that I had to change or the universe would leave me behind. When the Virus Creed comes here, I will need you. This whole galaxy will need you. Do you think you can try? For the galaxy? For me?"

Kar's teeth gnashed against an intense wave of helplessness and hatred.  _I shouldn't be here,_  he snarled savagely.  _I should be out there aiding you. I should—_

"Hey, don't." Harlene put a hand on his arm earnestly. "Right now there's nothing you can do. Except consider what I've said. When the time comes, we'll fight them. Together. You have my word."

He stared into her eyes and took her hand.  _And you have mine that I will be there for you._

"Thank you," she said with deep sincerity and slowly stood up. "I should go now."

Kar nodded but then went very still.

"Is something wrong?" Harlene asked when his gaze wavered from hers.

Kar forced back a prickle of discomfort and met her eyes again.  _If you are able, I would not object to you coming sooner than you usually do._

Harlene raised an eyebrow. "How much sooner are we talking?"

He growled non-verbally before replying,  _a few days, perhaps._

"You got it." She grinned. "Bonds really aren't such a bad thing, you know."

_I have created bonds before, however shallow they were,_  he growled.  _But I have never created one with a female I did not intend to mate with._

Harlene laughed. "Well, there's a first time for everything." Her smile faded. "Unless that was flirting."

He looked at her incredulously before snorting.  _Hardly. I think we can both agree we are entirely incompatible._

"Meaning girls who challenge you aren't your type." The smile reappeared as a smirk. "That's fine. Cowards aren't my type either."

His eyes widened in fury, but then relaxed as her tone and body language said she was joking. He still growled at her menacingly but she only laughed in response. "See ya soon, Kar."

xXx

Powerful as the realities were, it would be impossible (not to mention dangerous) for them to support everything. A chain of lesser virtual games could hold as much responsibility as an entire reality, and if a link in the chain weakened or broke, consequences were inevitable. The CAA was well aware of this. They didn't confine their sabotages to the real world. Ever since the attack on the Secretary of Defense, they had sent virtual soldiers to wreck various game sectors. The latest target was a game based on the  _Shrek_  franchise.

Harlene watched the recorded battle on a large flat-screen. She knew that CAA soldiers wore armor from head to foot like any military solider, but she was still disappointed that she didn't get to see their faces as reinforcements poured into the game and shot them to hell. There were no deaths due to the safety programming, but some of them were taken prisoner temporarily before they were able to get away. It was enough for the military to get a lock on the location of this particular battalion.

"How much time do you think they have to disconnect and haul ass before they're found?" Roan asked.

"Ten minutes, tops," Jacob said, taking a swing of beer. He let out a 'whoot!' and pumped his fist. "Get 'em. Princess F.!"

While the powers granted to players of simpler virtual games weren't nearly as formidable as the Error Corrector's, they could take the form of any character and be granted limited abilities. The twenty other Error Correctors all seated in the entertainment room feasted on snacks and drank while their raucous cheers rang through the entire academy as American and British soldiers along with players disguised as  _Shrek_  characters beat the CAA back.

"God, I needed this so much," Harlene muttered.

"Don't be selfish, Little Fifty, we  _all_  needed this," Dimitri said fervently.

Harlene noticed Noelle was eyeing her with a penetrating look. After celebrations were over, she knew the only thing that saved her from being cornered was Claire calling her away for a word.

"How are you?" her mentor asked when they were alone in a private room.

"I'm confused, optimistic, pissed and worried as hell," Harlene informed her calmly. "How are you?"

Claire didn't reply. Harlene noticed that the skin beneath her eyes had a slight bluish tinge to it. She looked pale too. Guilt made her cringe.

"Claire, are you all right?" She put all the concern she felt into the question.

"I don't think any of us are going to be all right until this is over," Claire said, leaning back heavily.

"Did the President contact you?"

"Yes. I'll be taking far more personal trips to Washington in the near future. All of us will. But that's not what I want to talk to you about now." In the most careful tone Harlene had ever heard her use, she asked, "Harlene, what's really going on between you and Maul?"

Harlene was stunned. A CAA attack had just been thwarted, the Error Correctors were scheduled to make more trips to Washington, Claire looked dead on her feet and she wanted to know about Maul?

"I'm not sleeping with him," she answered slowly. "In fact, I don't know for sure if I want anything…like that with him."

"But how strong is it?" Claire persisted. "Your attraction to him, I mean."

Harlene remembered how much her heart had raced at him simply looking at her. The way his voice made her shiver and how his touch brought new feelings and warmth.

"Claire, are you asking this because you think I'm too young to have sex?"

"Sex by itself has nothing to do with this, Harlene," Claire said firmly. "I can see it in your eyes. You're very attracted to him and not just sexually. The same thing goes for him."

"What do you mean?"

"However cruel, confident and fearless he acts, at his core, Maul is a deeply frightened, insecure child. If it weren't for you, he would be a complete wreck. He may lust for you, but what he really wants is to strengthen the bond between the two of you. He would do anything to make sure you never left him."

"I figured that," Harlene said as neutrally as she could. Why was Claire telling her what she already knew? "But he gave me another reason yesterday."

"What reason?"

"I told him he wasn't Sith. Now he wants to prove to me that he is. He practically said that I'll know he's Sith when we have sex." She was shocked at how much her mentor's face darkened and quickly added, "Claire, he was talking about me seeing his passion, he wasn't—"

"I know what you think he meant," Claire interrupted sharply. "And I know what he thinks he meant."

Harlene immediately frowned. Was this leading where she thought it was leading?

"Claire, what are you saying?"

Her mentor took a deep breath.

"Harlene, regardless of your age, you are mature enough to decide what you want to do. I trust you to make rational, healthy choices, but you need to be aware that this is entirely new territory to you. Both of you. Feelings like this can cloud your judgment in ways you can't imagine. And if you're already unstable and irrational...they can be deadly."

When the meaning of that fully sank in, Harlene narrowed her eyes.

"You think he's going to take advantage of me. Don't you?"

"You can't take this personally, Harlene. You have to acknowledge your limited understanding in this subject because Maul certainly won't acknowledge his."

"I don't believe you, Claire." Harlene shook her head. "I really, really don't."

"And I don't believe you." Claire's voice was quiet. "I am not Count Dooku. I am not trying to manipulate you. Whether you like it or not, you are severely inexperienced in the realm of sexuality and you are contemplating exploring it with someone who is not only equally ignorant, but desperate and unstable."

"I know he's desperate and unstable, but you're sounding as if that automatically means he's a molester or a rapist." It took a great deal of effort not the spit the last part of the sentence but Harlene didn't hide her growing anger and hurt.

"I don't believe he's a molester or a rapist, and you know it," Claire said. "If I believed that I would have spoken to you long ago."

"Claire, he wants me to choose him. On my own free will," Harlene insisted. "He was angry when I rejected him, but he would never force me."

"I don't believe he'll force you."

"Then what the hell is the problem?" Harlene demanded.

"What you fail to see, apprentice, is that there are many, many ways to be sexually taken advantage of. And they are far from limited to rape and molestation."

"So you think he's going to start writing me dirty letters or having lewd conversations with me on the phone?"

"I don't expect you to understand right away," Claire said, ignoring her sarcasm. "And I would be doing you a greater harm if I forbade a relationship between the two of you. But for your sake, Harlene, but alert and be very careful. If you have even the slightest feeling that something isn't right, listen to it."

"He wouldn't take advantage of me, Claire. I'll admit this is very new territory for me. For both of us. But he would never force me to do anything I didn't want to do."

Claire stared at her.

"I hate to say this, Harlene, but Dooku was right. Your faith in Maul's honor has become blind and unhealthy."

Harlene's eyes widened. Her hands gripped the armrests of the chair she was sitting in. For the second time in her entire life, she wanted to hit Claire out of sheer anger. Slowly, she got to her feet and made to leave. Claire got up too.

"Harlene…"

Harlene didn't turn around.

"Stay away from me," she said and left.

Wanting to be angry for a while without talking to anyone, Harlene secluded herself in her room for several hours.

Dooku had manipulated her. He had wanted her to become a selfish tyrant and had constantly tried to use Maul to accomplish that goal. Claire knew that and now she was siding with him all because Harlene was ignorant about sexual feelings. Her sympathy for her mentor's tiredness was now gone and for a long, vicious moment she reveled in it.

But as indignant as she was on Maul's behalf, she was angry at him too. Yelling at her to go away without explaining what was wrong as if everything that had happened to him was her fault. He should be grateful that she was bothering with him at all. Though they had nothing to do with this, she also raged at Kar, Aurra and Anakin. There was always a reason to be angry with them and she was more than entitled to it.

_You're all nothing without me. And deep down, you know it._

_(Do what you please with what is yours, child. And they are all yours.)_

The anger and self-justification felt good, and she held onto it for as long as she could. She was so deep in her own thoughts that she didn't notice at first when her comm beeped. There was a new text in her inbox. She opened it and read.

**Harlene,**

**I don't care if you're still mad. You will show up for today's lesson and you will be on time. There's a war going on and it won't pause because of any petty quarrels you have with me. If you're up to it, we can talk for a bit first, but there will be consequences for ignoring your responsibilities.**

**Claire**

Harlene knew that her mentor would knock her out and carry her to an interface module if she refused. She still contemplated being defiant anyway, but after several more moments, she stretched on her bed and headed out her door. As she was walking down a hall, she heard a voice behind her.

"Can't escape, Little Fifty."

Harlene paused. "I have to train, Noelle."

"So do we all." Noelle was completely unfazed. She rounded around Harlene and put her hands on her hips. "What's up?"

"You'll find out later." Harlene tried to get around her, but to no avail. "Noelle—"

"Is it because he's gay?"

"What?"

"Maul. Are you upset because he's gay?"

Harlene knew the look on her face must have been beyond priceless. "What—what the fuck are you talking about! Why would you think…?"

"Well, he's been back for two weeks and you haven't said anything about him wanting to jump you," Noelle said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "What am I supposed to think?"

Harlene didn't know whether to laugh, be outraged or continue to gape stupidly. When she could speak again she stammered out, "He's…Noelle, he's not…I would have told you sooner, but he did…the bubble shifted to Korriban and I was standing in front of this big flame and he came up to me and…What a minute!" Her voice regained force. "You're saying that if he doesn't hit on me in an allotted amount of time he's gay! That doesn't make any goddamn sense!"

"Oh, yeah, it does."

"How!"

"You think I'm gonna spell it out for you when you already know? Think again."

"Noelle, please, I'll give you and the boys all the juicy details later, but Claire will tan my hide if I don't show up to a lesson on time. Please get out of my way."

She did. Harlene could feel eyes boring into her back as she walked away. When she was out of earshot, she laughed, unable to help herself.

_Well, there_ were _all those slash-fics with him and Obi-Wan…_

She laughed again, but her humor dissipated when she found Claire waiting for her in the virtual training dojo. Harlene kept her senses and posture alert as she approached.

"You're still angry with me," Claire observed.

Harlene didn't blink. "Maybe it'll come in handy in today's lesson."

Claire attacked her immediately. Harlene channeled her anger, letting it feed her strength. Her mentor didn't let up until she was spent, panting at her feet. When she managed to pull herself up, she found Claire staring at her, sword lowered.

"Either you were thinking of the Jedi when you were fighting, or you now hate me as much as you do them."

Harlene stared back, shocked. Then she snorted. "Claire, you know damn well I could never hate you as much as the Jedi."

"Speaking of them, how did your first meeting go?"

"They fell for everything," Harlene said, smiling at the memory. "I let them believe that my superiors may consider aiding them if takeover by the Sith seems inevitable."

"And you're not worried that you may eventually have to keep that promise?"

Harlene laughed. "Never. They're far too steeped in dogma. Even if I presented them with everything they've done and everything that could happen…maybe they would listen to me, but they'd meditate on it at the most."

"I'm afraid I must agree. Harlene…" Claire took a step closer. "You know I never meant to hurt you."

"But you did," Harlene said with a cold edge.

"I've said what I had to, and I don't want us to fight. The only thing I ask is that you be careful."

_And watch out for Maul trying to molest me,_  she thought bitterly.

"Are things getting better with you and him?"

She sighed heavily. "I don't know. Now he's acting like Aurra did before. One moment we're fine and the next thing I know he's shouting at me to get away from him."

"I see." Claire's voice had a suspicious edge to it.

"What?" Harlene said, annoyed.

"Darth Maul is not the type of person to shout at you to get away from him unlike Aurra."

"She has schizophrenia, Claire. I know it for sure now."

"And Maul doesn't have that excuse," Claire countered. "I know you can't exactly ask him what's wrong, but you should be aware that he's more likely to shout out of terror than rage."

Harlene frowned. At her mentor's words, she became fully aware of an itch in her mind that had been there since she had last been with Maul. Which made no sense.

Then again, Maul's outburst made no sense. All she had done was touch his horns. Granted his reaction implied they were quite sensitive, but she had been gentle…

The itch began to grow.

"Harlene?"

She shook her head. "I don't know, Claire. His entire life has always been one trauma after another, but now he's lost almost everything he's ever known. I guess it was stupid of me not to expect sporadic outbursts."

But even as she said the words, she was fully aware of a deep sense of wrongness in them and the itch grew more aggravated in response. Traumatized as he was, Maul would never react so violently out of the blue. It just wasn't him.

"You don't believe that," Claire said in response to the frown on her face. "Something tells me I shouldn't ask what happened before he started shouting, but remember his greatest fear is to be without purpose. Or in other words: losing you."

Harlene had difficulty meditating after Claire left.

In fact, she was so distracted, she barely noticed when she was all but bodily hauled into a private room via Noelle, Roan and Jacob once she had emerged.

"All right. Spill," Jacob demanded.

Harlene was surprised at the hard, practically accusing tone he was using. "What's there to spill? Didn't Noelle tell you?"

"She didn't tell us much," Roan said. "All she said was that you and Maul had sex on Korriban—"

"WHAT!"

Harlene rounded furiously on Noelle who scowled. "You said he 'approached' you on Korriban and you were stammering the entire time."

"Oh, wonderful!" Harlene yelled. "First Maul is gay because it takes two weeks for him to hit on me and now he and I start going at it out of the blue!"

"Harlene, calm down," Roan held up a placating hand. "We just want to know what's going on."

"Well, Noelle seems satisfied with what she's come up with," Harlene muttered. She noticed Jacob glaring at her and demanded, "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Jacob said in a surprisingly calm voice. "You can have fun with whoever you want. I sure as hell won't stop you. Just so long as you don't try to make it last."

Harlene blinked. "Jacob, I don't even know if I want a relationship with him."

He laughed. "I'm the last guy who'll shed a tear if you decide in the end you don't. But if you do, make sure you don't…"

"Don't what?"

Jacob grimaced. "Fall in love. I mean, really fall in love."

Noelle and Roan looked at him in surprise. It was a long moment before Harlene could reply.

"Jacob, I can't even bring myself to pity him, and trust me, he's more than pathetic enough."

"Love ain't the same as pity, baby sis," Jacob said with an ironic shake of his head.

"Do you think he would take advantage of me?"

She blurted the question before she lost her nerve. All three of her friends appeared shocked.

"Why are you asking that?" Roan said.

"Claire all but said he will," Harlene replied bitterly.

"She doesn't have to hold your hand anymore," Noelle said, frowning. "And she knows damn well you wouldn't let anyone do that to you."

"Harlene…" Roan appeared uncomfortable. "You said he's honorable, and I believe you, but…he isn't one to not get what he wants. If you constantly say no…I don't think he'll take it as a permanent answer."

"Well, then, she'll just do to him what Obi-Wan did and she'll make sure he really feels it," Noelle said with a shrug. "Problem solved."

Harlene didn't feel anger at their responses. She felt anxiety. The itch in her mind was growing more and more aggravated. She was missing something. Something very important.

_(remember, child)_

"Harlene?"

They were all looking at her in concern. She shook her head and went out the door.

Nothing would occupy her for the rest of the day. Her thoughts were a chaotic mess, but the image of Maul after he had grabbed her wrist kept replaying over and over again. He had appeared so enraged. Of course she had seen him like that countless times and yet…that time it had been so different.

He had been furious. And that emotion had been mixed with another she had never seen on his face but felt in his touch.

Desperation.

" _His greatest fear is to be without purpose. Or in other words: losing you."_

Terror.

Maul grabbing her. Pressing her against him painfully.

" _You," he says in a whisper that sears her ear. "Are_ not. Leaving me."

So much terror.

" _You said you weren't uncertain of the future. Does that have anything to do with me?"_

_She nearly flinches at the intensity of his gaze._

" _It has_ everything _to do with you," he utters fervently._

Harlene lay in bed, alone in the dark with her thoughts. She had nearly kissed him. She had wanted to kiss him, a fictional character, an alien male, a lost terrified boy with piercing golden eyes filled with so much intensity and so much desire for her. Were his lips as soft as those red rings? Those red rings that hadn't been dyed black like the rest of the skin surrounding those smooth yet ridged horns?

_(Deeper, child, know the truth.)_

Touching them had been mesmerizing. And then he had grabbed her wrist and looked at her. Never had he looked at her that way before, and yet it was familiar...

" _It is your youth and naiveté that blinds you."_

" _I can see one of the reasons he was so taken with you, pretty one."_

" _Hey, little Sith slut!"_

Where…?

" _Well, you're an unusually pretty little piece of ass."_

Harlene sat bolt upright, the realization of where she had seen that look before hitting her like a punch to the gut.

He had shouted her to get out after she had touched his horns. And he had looked like…like…

The clawing, horrifying truth was still far enough away for her to protest inwardly.

_No. He wouldn't. He couldn't. There was no way he would ever…I should just go back to sleep right now and forget that I ever thought him capable of such a thing…_

Minutes passed and unable to stand it anymore, Harlene threw off the covers and yanked on a pair of shoes, not bothering to get dressed. Heart pounding, breath coming out in near moans of denial and rage, she swiftly made her way to Dr. Lexton's office. He had given her permission to go in there whenever she wanted a long time ago. Harlene slipped the keycard in and fell into the chair at his desk. She accessed the data on  _Star Wars_ and clicked on the file labeled Star Wars: species. In the search engine, she typed "Iridonian Zabrak horns". Several documents came up. Harlene clicked on the first one and read it.

xXx

Failure was not complex to Maul. The consequences of failure even less so. If the failure was minor and or redeemable, his punishment would be swift and merciless, but Lord Sidious would allow him to live. If the failure was irredeemable, he would die. It was simple as that.

He never lied to his Master about his failures. Even if Lord Sidious never found out about it (which was in and of itself ludicrous) the concept of lying to him had never once crossed Maul's mind. Failure was failure. It was not mixed with lies and deceit.

Or betrayal.

Or crushing shame, deep humiliation, self-loathing and constant mental torment that threatened his sanity.

There was no relief from it, even when he channeled his emotions during meditations. The worst part was that his shame, no matter how great could not dim his lust. Harlene had touched him and his treacherous mind taunted him with other ways she could touch him, as well as ways he could touch her. Ways he could explore both her darkness  _and_ her body.

Maul paced his workroom having given up on repairing the damaged dark eye long ago. His mind raced feverishly. His desire for Harlene had grown, yet how could he pursue an intimate relationship with her after what he had done? She would leave if she knew, but if she accepted him, her trust would be based on lies. By the dark side, it was  _already_ based on lies.

He stopped, grabbing his forehead and letting his shoulders slump. There was no way their intimacy could deepen now. He had disgraced them both in a moment of utter weakness and disgracing them while he was strong was unthinkable. There would be no redemption after such betrayal. But what about now? How could he even touch her after what he had done? Did he have any right to her at all after he had looked in her eyes and sworn on his life he would never take advantage of her? After she had smiled and declared she would always trust him with her honor?

Harlene…

Maul squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth. He knew what he wanted to do most of all, what he was desperate to do. He wanted to go to her, confess everything and beg her forgiveness. This secret, this shame…it was poisoning him. It was tearing him apart. But she would leave…

The decision was so tormenting he nearly called out to the Voice to ask for advice. But of course the Voice was well aware of what had happened. Maybe it was reveling in his agony and was perfectly content to mock him from afar.

Taking his hand away from his forehead, away from those accursed horns, Maul straightened up. He would tell her. Eventually. Soon. But their bond needed to grow first or he risked her abandonment.

Mounting the  _Bloodfin_ , Maul made his way back to The Works. Never had he wished more that Harlene could touch the Force. If she did, he could open his mind to her; let her feel his shame and his regret. Then she could know how sorry he was and forgive him based on that.

But would she forgive him?  _Could_  she ever forgive him?

After storing the  _Bloodfin_  on the  _Scimitar,_  he went to his training room and stopped when he saw Harlene standing by the open view port. He took a moment to compose his emotions and his treacherous mind so she would suspect nothing yet. He had been angered by her past refusals of him, but now he blessed them. If she wanted him now…

Clenching and unclenching his hands, he went up to her and laid a hand on her arm.

"Hello, Harlene."

He nearly blinked at his own words. Never in his life had he greeted anyone in such a manner. It was uncanny. And yet he did not regret it. Whatever fondness, respect and patience Harlene had for him, he was well aware he tended to irritate her quite a bit. Perhaps he should make more of an effort not to. He still didn't know how to reclaim his honor or atone for what he had done, but he could start by treating her better, maybe even listening more carefully to her beliefs, however false they were.

It took Maul a moment to notice that Harlene wasn't acknowledging him in any way.

"Harlene?"

No answer. She continued to stare out the viewport, silent and unmoving. Maul shoved down a wave of annoyance remembering how he had shouted at her last time.

"I am not angry with you," he said, making an effort to gentle his already naturally soft voice. "You did nothing wrong. I acknowledge that I should not have been abrupt with you, and I apologize."

He waited for a reply. As the seconds passed, he began to grow annoyed again.

"Harlene?"

Still no answer. Annoyance progressed to anger and he resisted an urge to spin her around to face him.

"Is there any particular reason you seem so determined to ignore me?" he grated out.

A growl rumbled in the back of her throat when once again he was met with silence. His hand tightened a bit around her arm. What was the matter with her? Why was she-?

"Get your hands off me."

Maul retracted his hand as quickly as if she had shocked him with her electricity, but it was out of sheer surprise from the cold, clipped tone of voice she had used in uttering the order. For a moment he thought she had sounded like Lord Sidious.

Slowly, Harlene turned to face him and his surprise grew at the barely constrained anger and pain tightening her face and brimming in her eyes.

"I have a question for you," she said in a very slow, yet trembling voice, "and I want an honest answer: are your horns erogenous zones?"

Even as dread coursed through him like an icy river, he remained as perfectly still and silent as she had been only moments ago.

Harlene's mouth began to tremble and her eyes blazed.

"ANSWER ME, GODDAMN YOU!"

He had not been entirely truthful with himself before. Lying had crossed his mind a few times when it came to admitting failure to Lord Sidious, but only if he hadn't been confronted with it yet. If Lord Sidious ever asked him directly, he would tell the complete truth even as he could see and feel the inevitable consequences that would result from pure honestly. Harlene was no different now, he realized.

"Yes."

The reply was so soft it was practically a sigh. But Harlene drew back as if he had punched her. For a long second, she stared at him, pale and wide-eyed. Then her gaze tore away from his as her face contorted not in hatred but agony. She stumbled back a step and her body hunched as if in response to being stabbed in the stomach. And that agonized look…it rapidly grew into something so twisted and tortured it threatened to shatter her face like glass. Her mouth hung open in a silent scream.

Maul felt something within him snap.

"Harlene…"

He reached for her and had he not been so consumed by the desire to do something, to  _explain,_  he would have been stunned at the genuine plea in his voice.

Before he could make contact, Harlene's head snapped upward and she ruthlessly slapped away his hand.

"How could you?" It came out a raspy whisper and was then repeated in a howl of wounded fury. "How  _could you?"_

"I—"

" _How could you!"_

"Harlene—"

" _HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU!"_

"Harlene…"

"No!" She shrieked and now her pain was mixed with a mad rage he had seen before: when she had held a dagger at his throat during their first trip to Korriban. "NO!  _Not_  how could you, how could  _I!_   _Everything_  was there, right in front of my eyes, they all said it was! How could I not see what was right in front of my  _GODDAMN FUCKING EYES!"_

He took a step toward her. "Harlene, please, let me—"

"Oh, I've got you begging now, have I?" she sneered viciously. "I thought you didn't beg. You said you didn't. Then again you also said you didn't need me. You said power was all that mattered. You looked into my eyes and you promised me…you promised me…" her voice broke and for a moment, there was nothing in her eyes but stark agony and betrayal that manifested into tears.

But they didn't please him. Not when her pain was so palpable where he could feel it beating at him like the winds of a hurricane. Not when he was the cause of it.

"Harlene, I am sorry. I never intended—"

"Sorry?" she spat. "You're  _sorry!_  I  _touched_ you! I  _aroused_ you! You  _promised_ me you filthy, sick, twisted, lying  _animal!_  You're as bad as them! NO! You're WORSE than them! They at least knew what they wanted from me and they took it without any kind of deception! Now I don't even know if that was the first time! Did I even  _need_  to touch you? How old did I have to be? Is that why you touched my hair when I was eleven? Did it give you an aching hard-on!"

Maul realized what she was saying, who she was comparing him to and what she was accusing him of. His guilt and shame suddenly paled in comparison to his anger.

"How dare you…" he hissed, taking another step toward her. "How  _dare_ you think that—"

"Oh, I don't think it, Maul, I  _know_  it." She was snarling, but there was malicious delight on her face; she was enjoying his anger. "And don't you even try to tell me you didn't know your horns are erogenous zones. You _wanted_  me to touch you. I even asked permission! You're a goddamn perverted animal that's not even fit to lick shit off the shoes of the scum of Ybor. And that really is the most fucked up thing about all this. If you had just been honest with me…even if you had tried to rape me outright…" her voice grew soft with genuine honesty. "I really do think that in time I could have at least forgiven you if nothing else."

Maul just stared at her, unable to speak due to his anger…and something else. What was wrong with his hearts? What was this tightening in his chest? Why was breathing so difficult? He had never felt anything like this before.

"Just…oh, fuck it, it doesn't matter," Harlene said, suddenly looking old and weary. "There's nothing else. I'm not coming back here anymore, so it doesn't matter."

She mumbled the last sentence and Maul's anger vanished to be replaced by fear.

"What?" he whispered, praying he had misunderstood.

"I said I'm going," she reiterated harshly. "There's no way I can stay here. I can barely stand to look at you anymore much less talk to you. I don't even know why I came back. I should have just left you here to wonder about it for the rest of your life.  _That_ would have been revenge."

"You can't." Numb with terror, Maul reached forward and grabbed her shoulders, uncaring of her electricity. "Harlene, you  _can't."_

"Why not?" She asked quietly. "You know I'm actually kind of curious. Why should I stay? Give me one good reason."

When his mind was done torturing him with all the reasons she shouldn't, he whispered hoarsely, "You  _swore._  You swore to me that you would…you promised…"

"Yes," Harlene said softly. Distantly. "And it's only now that I truly realize just how convenient that was. Because after all…" a smile curled her mouth that highlighted the cruelty shining in her eyes. "Isn't that what children always want to hear? Isn't that what they'll always believe even if they know it's a lie?"

The meaning behind that couldn't have been clearer. But instead of enraging him, it turned his blood to ice water. Slowly, his hands withdrew from her shoulders and trembled at his sides.

"What are you saying?"

She laughed. "Oh, relax, Maul. It may be taking all my will power not to castrate you where you stand, but I won't feed you any bullshit about how our relationship was a lie. It wasn't. Everything was real. I did grow to admire you, respect you and even care for you. But so what? It doesn't change the fact that I could have forgotten all about you whenever I wanted. Whenever I came back to you it was on a whim, not on any feelings I had for you. Congratulations, Maul. You are living proof that it's possible to care about  _nothing._  But the great thing about nothing is that you can forget it so much more easily than you can care about it."

She vanished and it took Maul a second to realize he was staring at thin air.

_No…_

"Wait," he mouthed, unable to speak due to being choked by panic. His voice came out stronger a second time but before he could repeat the plea a third time, he sensed something familiar. His own darkness. A piece of his own darkness was by the entrance of the factory.

He ran all the way down not yet feeling the now ice-cold air and the terrible ringing silence.

_It screams at you doesn't it?_

Harlene was gone.

_The frigid waves stab you over and over again._

Gone.

_You become desperate for anything…anyone to end it._

Gone.

_Because you find you can't stop it by yourself._

Forever.

A small, but brilliant red glimmer shone on the floor by the exit of the factory. Maul skidded to a halt it front of it. Strength fled his legs and he sunk to his knees by the crushed remains of a lightsaber handle that lay beside the seemingly undamaged red crystal. The heart of the blade.

Ripped from its battered, violated body.

"Wait," Maul muttered over and over again. "Wait…"

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

" **How did her friends take it?"**

" **Noelle calmed down only when Harlene told her that she made him wish she made him eat his own cock before breaking every bone in his body. Jacob on the other hand was inconsolable for an hour. Roan was livid as well, but he was considerably less passionate than Jacob."**

" **And you?"**

" **I want to know what you think first."**

" **If I examine this with a cool, clear, unbiased mind…I'd first say there's more to this than meets the eye."**

" **What would you say afterward?"**

" **Harlene claims she asked permission to touch his horns and he gave it without telling her they were erogenous zones. But something tells me he wasn't thinking 'hey, little girl, touch this'. I doubt he had a clue what he was really letting her do. He definitely didn't have a clue as to how her touch would make his body and his mind react."**

" **So, in other words, you think Harlene was being unfair."**

" **Yes. If only because she's less of a virgin than he is."**

" **I agree. But I can't talk to her. He still betrayed her, regardless of his ignorance and right now Harlene is past the point of being reasoned with."**

" **He'll go insane without her. I wouldn't be surprised if he's killed himself already."**

" **She doesn't need him. If he dies, she'll become harder and more ruthless than she already is at worst, but she won't lose her compassion. It would be more beneficial to her if she forgave him. But I won't force her."**

" **How very Sith of you."**

" **Pragmatic. His return was an accident of the interface. Whatever purpose he has is utterly dependent on my apprentice's opinion of him. He belongs to her."**

" **I wonder if he'll ever become aware of that irony. Probably in a few weeks when he's crawling up the walls."**

" **I've been closely monitoring the Internet ever since the Error Correctors and the realities were revealed to the public. The people are making their opinions heard and not just by rioting."**

" **Yeah. I've lost count how many hackers have tried to find the realities, but they haven't had any luck."**

" **I'm not just talking about hackers. I'm talking about blogs, vlogs, facebook, twitter, youtube."**

" **I was listening to one youtuber three days ago. Cyberbanshee66. She's quite popular and she's very adamant about finding the real corruption. As in the inevitable CAA spies in our government. She thinks that the lawsuits being filed against Virtech are a huge waste of time and that several of them are courtesy of companies under CAA control. And she disagrees with the CAA in that the President will use the Error Correctors to kill old white dudes and throw everyone's gun in a big bonfire."**

" **I've known forever that the CAA would milk the revelation of our existence for all its worth."**

" **But enough people aren't blind. I for one want to see what changes this will all bring to the ever-evolving Internet."**

" **Same here."**

**xXx**

The blaster shot to the stomach was nearly the undoing of everyone. It had paralyzed him long enough for a marine to stab a scanner into his arm.

"Where are you?" said the harsh, electronic voice emitting from his enemy's helmet as the device went beep-beep-beep. "Where are you and your little peckerwood friends?  _Where are you?""_

Trent Carlyle would never dwell on the question if it was the Virus Creed's sadistic training that enabled him to block the pain enough to grab a dagger and plunge it into the marine's neck. He ripped the scanner from his arm and mentally howled at the interface to return him to his body. There was nothing he could do for the others except hope they could escape without being scanned.

"Shit," Trent cursed when he found himself back in the real world. His muscles ached with phantom pain. Tearing off his goggles, he looked around the near-barren safe house, at his fellow Aryan warriors. He cursed again when he saw that nearly all of them were still hooked up.

"Don't waste time cursing your brothers and sisters, Carlyle," a high, yet sinister voice said. "Get your ass up."

Trent untangled himself and jumped off the cot. He began to feel relieved when the others started to un-jack themselves.

"Carlyle," the voice that had addressed him before snapped. The owner was a large man with a baby face that ironically added to the aura of dark menace that clung to him. The red swastika on his forearm looked more like a cattle-prod burn rather than a tattoo. "Monitor the scanners. If they're less than sixty miles away, you tell me. Understand?"

Trent nodded and saluted. "Yes, sir Lieutenant Kemp."

He went to the scanning console and had to force himself to give it his undivided attention. Lieutenant Kemp would knock him unconscious and leave him for dead if he caught him focusing on anything else. Trent had a promising career as an Alliance solider. He would be missed, but no one on his squad would contradict Ethan Kemp if he reported that Trent had died during the mission.

"Sir…?" A feeble voice sounded behind him. John Northman. Not a friend, but a smart kid and a good soldier. "Sir, I…I think…I couldn't get the scanner off…"

Trent winced when he heard a meaty crunch followed by a dull thud.

"Sixty miles away, Lieutenant," he reported a second later. "Fifty-nine-point-five."

"Let's go," Kemp commanded. "All of you. Move."

"Sir, Don and Chris are still—"

Trent risked tilting his head to the left when Janis Morne fell silent. Kemp's back was to him, but however the lieutenant looked, it made Janis's face go bone-white.

"Are you a traitor?"

His tone was almost polite. Janis looked as if she might piss herself at any second.

"That's what a traitor looks like." Kemp pointed at John's limp body on the ground. "Those are what traitors look like." He pointed at the five remaining members of squad still hooked up to the interface and then peered at Janis again. "Is that what you look like?"

If Janis weren't a soldier trained by the Virus Creed, Trent knew she would be on her knees, sobbing right now. Kemp was far from the most brilliant tactical mind in the CAA military. A few raids under his command had gone afoul, but the Grand Dragons had never stripped him of his rank. The reason was simple: he knew how to make his soldiers do what he wanted, whenever he wanted. Oh, people questioned him, but if he really wanted you to run straight into the laser-fire armed with only a toothpick, you would do it.

It was also the reason why he was the CAA's most successful interrogator as well.

When Janis didn't reply, Kemp shoved her against the wall, his large, meaty hands pressed against her breasts.

"IS THAT WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE!"

Trent blessed God when he returned his gaze to the scanner. "Sir, they're almost fifty miles away."

Kemp threw Janis to the floor by her breasts. Her face contorted, but she didn't cry out in pain.

Nobody said a word as Kemp torched the safe house with five people still inside. Trent had no idea if they would feel the agony of their flesh burning. He hoped they didn't. But they had taken the same oath every solider had. If they were captured and or scanned, then they had to end their lives or let a comrade end it for them. The white race was still endangered despite the Alliance's phenomenal successes. Sacrificing the one for the many was the only logical choice to make.

And it still made him want to vomit.

Their remaining squad returned home safe, but there was no time for relaxation. They had failed and needed to report to the Grand Dragons.

xXx

Anakin Skywalker's faith in his abilities was unshakable. He was the best star pilot in the galaxy and he knew it. His skills with a lightsaber were unrivalled and he knew it. His military tactics and strategies were responsible for several key victories and turning points in the Clone Wars and he knew it. He was the most powerful Jedi in the Order's twenty-five thousand year history and he knew it. Most of all, he would save Padme and their unborn child.

Still, even he was mildly surprised at the success last night meditations had brought.

His talk with Palpatine last night had opened up entire galaxies full of possibilities. After bidding the Chancellor good-bye, he made his way to the Jedi Temple and spent the night dwelling into the deepest energies of the Force. Even though he disagreed with most of the Chancellor's views, especially regarding the Sith, Palpatine had given him a vital piece of advice that was the key to getting the power he needed. Anakin hadn't expected much during only one night of meditation, but he knew he was getting close fast. All the power he needed was there for him to take. He just had to get there.

Anakin emerged from the Force feeling more refreshed and confident that he had in weeks. Meditation was not a substitute for sleep, but it would stave off the need enough until he could save Padme. He didn't dare sleep while he was having those nightmares. No matter how much his eye-lids fluttered or how much his watery bones and muscles begged for rest, or how much his mind buzzed, he would not sleep. He would meditate and draw on the Force for strength.

Before he could get up, a knock sounded outside and the Force told him no one was there. But if he concentrated hard, he would be able to sense a void. He lurched to his feet and opened the door.

Once he and Harlene were seated, Anakin found himself at a momentary loss for words. There was so much he wanted to tell her, so much he wanted to say. How furious he was with the Council, Obi-Wan. How grateful he was for what she had done for him. His meetings with Palpatine. His fears for Padme. There was so much…

As he struggled to gather himself, Harlene watched him with nothing but patience and compassion in her eyes. Finally, after taking several deep breaths, he said chuckled weakly and said, "Force, I don't know where to start."

"Start anywhere," she said with a shrug. "But you know I'm a little confused. I can tell you spent the entire night here. Why aren't you with Padme?"

At her question, a sense of clarity gripped him. He stared her dead in the eye and said, "I've found a way to save her."

He told Harlene of the Tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise. When he was finished, he wasn't surprised at her astonishment.

"Is Palpatine certain? I mean, you said that he said it was a legend—"

"I know it's real," Anakin said firmly. "I know it. And even if it wasn't…I know I can find the power to save Padme's life. Palpatine told me so much. He doesn't even know the Force, and yet…" Anakin shook his head. "He told me about the Sith. To him, there's only one difference between the Jedi and the Sith, and that's their understanding of the Force. He said that while a Jedi gains power through understanding, a Sith gains understanding through power. A Sith's insight is purely inward, and Palpatine said that's why they're so powerful. That's how Plagueis was able to cheat death. So, that's what I have to do. I have to think inwardly. I have to concentrate on the self. It's the only way I'll get the power I need."

Harlene didn't reply. Instead, she stared at the floor, but Anakin could see her face clearly. He hadn't noticed before, but her skin had taken on a sickly, sallow tint. Her black eyes seemed darker than ever and were giving off an unhealthy glitter, like someone coming down with a fever. Concern immediately flooded him.

"Harlene, are you all right?" He reached out and felt her forehead. Her skin was cold as ice and she gave no sign that she felt his touch. He suddenly remembered that she hadn't smiled at all since he invited her in.

"I've been thinking about power too, lately."

Her voice was so soft Anakin suspected she was merely thinking out loud. "Are you sick?" he demanded.

"No," she replied and looked up at him. He immediately saw that her eyes weren't alight with sickness, but with pain. No. Not pain. Agony.

Someone had hurt her. Badly.

The furnace in his heart roared in response. The dragon tried to devour the flames, to whisper that someone had hurt his sister and he had been helpless to stop them, and Anakin came to within an inch of snapping the dragon's neck.

"Who hurt you?" he said in a low growl. "Tell me. Tell me now."

Even in his rage, he was surprised when a small smile curled her mouth. "I took care of it. That's all I'm going to say right now."

She expected him to be satisfied with that? "Harlene—"

He stopped when she grabbed his arms. Not hard enough to bruise, but hard enough so that he could feel her extraordinary power.

"Anakin." If he hadn't known her so well, he would have felt very unnerved at the way she was looking at him. "That's all I'm going to say right now."

Glittering black eyes locked with stormy blue. Both used the other as a focus to calm themselves. Slowly, the flames in Anakin's furnace heart began to quell, leaving embers that were more manageable, but still licked his soul. Harlene released him and sat back.

When Anakin spoke, his voice betrayed his reluctance to change the subject. "You've been thinking about power too?"

She nodded once. "Yeah."

"My conversations with Palpatine have been…very interesting as of late," Anakin said. "The Council wants me to spy on him, and he knew it from the very start."

"I'm not surprised," Harlene said rather coolly. "He's very clever."

He waited for her to continue. When she didn't, he bit his lip. "He doesn't trust the Jedi. He thinks they're planning to take over the Republic. I didn't defend them as much as I thought I would."

"After what they put you through, I would think there was something seriously wrong with you if you did."

His eyes narrowed. It was a while before he could gather the courage to ask,  _"Is_  the Council planning to take over the Republic?"

"Anakin, if I knew that, I wouldn't be able to tell you," Harlene said.

"But what you did in the Council Chambers—"

"Once I learned that Palpatine wanted you on the Council, I knew they would pull something like that. I can't interfere, but I wanted them to know that I was aware of the tactics they would stoop to, and how much I disapproved of them."

"What you did…" Anakin had to reopen his throat before he could continue. "…was it all for me?"

Now she smiled. "Yes. It was."

When he spoke again, his voice was steady. "Obi-Wan told me that before the Chancellor was kidnapped, the Council traced Darth Sidious to 500 Republica. They think the Sith might be someone in Palpatine's inner circle. Obi-Wan told me that's why they want me to spy on him."

"And what do you think?"

"I don't think, I  _know,"_  Anakin snarled. He leaped to his feet and began pacing furiously. "The Council doesn't trust Palpatine. Palpatine doesn't trust the Council. Now that I'm on the Council, the Masters have to script every kriffing thing they say before I come in. I keep on asking myself 'what are they so afraid of?'. It can't be just me. It wasn't until I spoke with Palpatine that I finally knew the answer." He stopped, seething. "They're afraid of losing their  _power_. That's why I'm such a threat to them. That's why they don't trust me. Because I'm more powerful than they could ever hope to be. And Palpatine. They constantly complain about him having too much power, but I've never heard a single one of them offer a better way to end the war. If they really cared about the Republic, they would be trying to work with him. They would be offering their own ideas. But they don't. And you know what's funny? The friction between the Council and the Chancellor, the  _real_  friction began after the Senate granted him the authority to command the Council. When the Council had to answer to  _him_ , the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic." Anakin's hands balled into fists. "Palpatine said that the Jedi have become more concerned with avoiding the oversight of the Senate than with winning the war. He also told me the basic rule of politics: all who gain power fear to lose it. I've never thought the Jedi political, but—"

Harlene's snort cut him off. "The Jedi claim to loathe politics, and yet they have a Council that the rest of the Order takes direction from. And how do they choose their members? Based on how strictly a Master follows the Jedi Code."

Anakin nodded grimly. "I've studied the Jedi Code for over half my life. And never once does it say that I have to betray a friendship, or my honor, or my values. And the Council says I have to in the name of duty." He practically spat the word. "And Obi-Wan." Anger bubbled up as he said his old Master's name. "You stood up for me in front of the entire Council, and Obi-Wan thinks that you did it because you thought I would tell Palpatine that the meeting was planned so he would distrust the Jedi even FURTHER!"

Anakin telekinetically hurled his mediation stool against the wall. It fell with a loud thump on the floor.

For a while, he just stood. Shaking. Seething. Exhausted. His mind such a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions he wanted to rip his skull open.

A gentle hand rested itself on his arm. He looked into Harlene's eyes. They weren't condemning, but very serious.

"Do  _you_  think that's why I stood up for you?"

Anakin cupped both sides of her face, lifting her head up so she fully met his gaze.

"I could never even think such a thing," he whispered fervently. "That you would use me for your own ends…" he wrapped his arms around her, pressing his cheek against her hair. "Everyone keeps asking me for things. Even Padme. And they all act like I'm a horrible person if I don't give them what they want. But you," he drew back so he could look at her, "you've never asked me for anything. From the moment we met, all you've ever done is give. I can't ever recall you asking me for anything. Even though there's nothing I wouldn't give."

"You're my brother," Harlene said. "I love you. And I always want to be there for you."

"Obi-Wan told me that the Jedi are my family," Anakin said and felt something close to hatred as he did. "But that's miles away from the lowest joke. I have a wife who loves me, a child who will soon love me." He tucked a strand of ebony hair behind Harlene's ear. "And a sister who loves me. I don't need anything else."

_Except to love you all of you openly and shamelessly_  his inner voice whispered.  _To love you in freedom. And to keep you safe forever._

They broke apart and sat down. Anakin spoke in grim tones.

"I would leave the Jedi Order right this very second if it weren't for my dreams."

"You know what the consequences would be," Harlene said quietly. "You've been married to Padme for three years, and you're the father of her child."

Anakin made a sound between a snort and a scoff. "I don't give a damn about scandals. I don't give a damn what the Jedi Order or the galaxy would think of me. Padme wouldn't care either." His gaze bore into Harlene's. "I'm going to fulfill that promise I made three years ago. Soon I'll be the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. I'll find the key to stopping death. I'll keep all three of you safe. Forever. I swear it."

xXx

Harlene fiddled with her comm for several moments before calling Claire.

"I passed my own test," she reported.

" **Did you?"**

"Yeah." Harlene sighed and cupped her forehead, rubbing her temples. She didn't speak as she rode out yet another storm of rage, humiliation and pain.

" **Harlene, I hope you're not suffering from the things I said to you before you confronted Maul. There's no reason for you to."**

"Don't say that," Harlene mumbled, digging her fingers into her skull. "Don't say that when I deserved every—"

" **You know damn well I wasn't trying to hurt you. So stop acting like it was earned insults."**

"Fine. It was earned advice then."

Brief pause.  **"Harlene, you said you wouldn't let this interfere with your duty. But if you really need a little time off, arrangements can be made."**

"What I need is to get on with my life," Harlene bit out. "I told him he's nothing and he is nothing."

She hung up and pressed the device to her forehead. Another storm was brewing. One whose winds consisted of wracking sobs, and thunder that consisted of screams of fury.

_Why. Why, why, why. I hate you. I hate you. I goddamn fucking HATE YOU!_

( _ride out your storms, child. Let the memory of him slowly burn to ash)_

The slight pain in her temples fed the churning winds of the storm.

"Harlene? Are you all right?"

Qui-Gon approached her looking concerned.

She glared at him. "No, Qui-Gon. I'm about as fucking far from all right as can be."

He immediately took a seat beside her. "What has happened?"

_What's happened? Dooku was right, that's what's fucking happened. And Vergere. Maybe even Sidious too. No, definitely Sidious._

As Dooku's named flitted through her mind, a thought occurred to her. Could she…?

Harlene closed her eyes and tested the currents of the interface. Several seconds later, she found that she could.

"Harlene?"

She stood up. "I'm going to pay your old Master a little visit, Qui-Gon." Without waiting for a reply, she keyed in a request in her comm and then teleported.

The room was dimly lit, but had a feeling of home to it. A warm fire was crackling in the hearth. He was sitting in an armchair looking as poised and regal as ever. But she knew him well enough to notice a change in the way his eyes stared into empty space and the way his lips were pursed in grim contemplation.

"Hello, Dooku."

Dooku's brow flew up and his surprise only grew as he turned to fully face her. But his expression quickly grew very cold.

"I must say, this is the last place I expected to find you scurrying around."

"Guess the Force is being lazy if the first thing that comes out of your mouth is a pathetic insult with shitty subtlety." Harlene plopped herself in a chair and slouched. "But paying attention to the really useful stuff ain't the way of the Sith, is it?"

"And here I thought children were supposed to lose their insolence as they grew older," Dooku said icily. "I wonder if it's more pathetic that you were more mature when you were twelve."

He was right. Harlene knew she had become a lot more mouthy and aggressive when she hit her teenage years. In response to Dooku's remark, she shrugged and grinned.

"Well, what can I say? Puberty brings out my better nature."

"You will not be smiling so broadly when you realize you must spit out your own foot."

"Says the dead Sith housekeeper sulking in an armchair."

"Ah, yes," Dooku nodded slowly. "How deeply did you revel in your part in my demise?"

"Not nearly as much as I thought I would," she admitted. "I was very glad when you died, but it was a gladness related more to fulfilling a necessity rather than genuine happiness." She leaned forward. "However, the  _way_ you died was far more satisfying."

"That's enough, Harlene," Qui-Gon said sharply. A third chair conjured from thin air and he lowered himself in it. "You are welcome here if you wish to talk, but I will not tolerate sneering and gloating from you."

"Qui-Gon, would you like me to tell you how much I seethingly loathe self-righteous hypocrisy?" Harlene asked sweetly.

"First of all, 'seethingly' is not a word, little one," Dooku said. "Secondly, you grossly underestimate my former apprentice. He is well aware that there are far stronger weapons in existence than those commonly wielded by undisciplined children. You were aware of that once, and for your sake I sincerely hope you have not forgotten it."

"Oh, I haven't." Harlene's voice grew as frosty and dark as midnight in the arctic. "And you underestimate me if you think I'm here to gloat."

"The immaturity you have displayed is not quite so severe that I would believe such a thing," Dooku replied. "But I wish to know why you are here."

"I'll start by saying that you were right."

She was expecting both men to look at her in shock, but it was still satisfying.

"May I inquire regarding what?" Dooku said, his brow lifting to his hairline.

"About Maul. You were right."

Dooku and Qui-Gon exchanged looks. Something passed between them and Harlene was almost certain it was a warning.

"You have become aware of how inappropriate his attentions to you were?" Dooku asked carefully.

"I'm not talking about the past, Count." Harlene shifted. Her gaze wavered from Dooku's. "I found a branch in your dimension a couple of weeks ago. A separate bubble if you will. Maul was inside, completely healthy with his memories intact."

"I see." Dooku laced his fingers together in front of his chest. "It is not difficult to fill in several blanks then. What did he do after he swore he would never disgrace your honor?"

Harlene willed her arms to remain still. It would be so easy to raise her barriers. It would be so easy to will her pain away, to see Maul for the nothing that he was. She didn't know why she didn't just do it.

"I touched his horns," she said in a low voice.

Dooku froze so suddenly that Harlene stared at him.

"I beg your pardon?" he said in a voice so dark even Qui-Gon was giving him his undivided attention.

"I said I touched his horns," Harlene muttered, staring at her clenched right hand. "I asked him if I could and he let me."

"He did not inform you that Iridonian horns are highly sensitive erogenous zones?"

Harlene snorted and shook her head, smiling tightly. "No he left out that little detail."

"Then we both underestimated him," Dooku said softly. "I did not think him capable of such despicable deception."

"Well, at least now we know." Harlene shrugged again, but her mind screamed  _'you should have tried to rape me, you fucking animal! I hate you so FUCKING MUCH!'_ "But I'm here to tell you that you were more wrong than you were right."

"Oh?"

"If you think that this is going to cause me to become a selfish, vengeful, sees-people-only-as-tools-psychopath, then you will be so very, very disappointed. Just minutes ago I looked into the eyes of Anakin Skywalker, a man who would tear my throat out the instant he suspected I had done something to betray him, and felt no desire to extend my wrath toward him. He's not responsible for what Maul did, and neither is anyone else."

Qui-Gon's brow rose. "Are you disappointed, Master?" he asked mildly.

At first Dooku gave no indication that he had heard. Finally, he said, "Then you must forgive me for underestimating you. The way of the Sith leads to personal ruin. You are very wise to have made your choice after suffering such a devastating betrayal."

Harlene was taken aback. Her eyes flickered to Qui-Gon, then Dooku again.

"Huh. I guess you are interested in learning the useful stuff." The corners of her mouth lifted in a cold smile. "And all you had to do was die after causing death and untold suffering to countless individuals."

xXx

Harlene gave them a curt farewell before teleporting away. Qui-Gon stared at her empty chair and then at Dooku.

"I trust you saw the self-loathing in her eyes?" his old Master inquired.

Qui-Gon nodded. "I did."

"She has told her other friends and they feed her sympathy, constantly telling her that she is not at fault. But she disagrees wholeheartedly. Apart from informing me how mistaken I was, she does not wish to be alone in that thinking."

"So you believe she is at fault?"

Dooku raised an eyebrow. "In part she is. I will not deny what I wanted for her in the past. But no one could deny how inappropriate the boy's attentions were."

"Master, you confessed to me how you tried to manipulate her and how fervently she fought against you. Perhaps if you hadn't, she would see that the only thing both she and Darth Maul are guilty of is ignorance and perhaps a bit of arrogance. And if you were not so blind, you would see that too."

"So I am the one at fault here?"

"Though I disagree with Harlene's wording, you cannot deny there is a lesson to be learned here. Harlene is responsible for her choices, yes, but your influence affected her in a negative way. You are responsible for a condition that caused her to unjustly punish someone." Qui-Gon smiled dryly. "So, yes, Master. You are at fault."

xXx

Nick Rostu watched from the bridge of the  _Arrakis_  as Ossus got smaller and smaller. It was a great relief to finally be rid of that miserable, ghost of a planet. He and the boys had done good work; they had frustrated the Seps and caused their base considerable damage before the reinforcements became too much to handle. Some, him included, had hoped to destroy their base and drive them from Ossus completely even if the pragmatic part of him knew that was crazy thinking. Oh, well. He had no regrets, save for the lives that were lost. They had done their job and now it was time to go home until they were called again.

According to rumors, Ossus had been a very lush world some four-thousand years ago. But thanks to the Sith, something called the Cron Cluster had been destroyed causing electric and chemical storms to ravage the world. The few natives there were said to be descended from Jedi, but they were primitive and mildly savage, believing their Force talents to be the work of magic. Both Separatist and Republic troops were content to steer clear of them. The only good thing about Ossus was that the rocky, rubble-ridden terrain had been a blessing when it came to sneaking up on unsuspecting seps and hammering for them for all it was worth.

But that was over for now. The ear-splitting blasts, the adrenaline rushes that were sometimes so powerful he felt he would pass out, the death-cries, the smells and the fear. He was ready to go home.

"Good-bye you moldy, dry-as-old-bones, dirty dust ball," Nick muttered. "And good riddance."

He made his way to his cramped quarters and bathed as well as he could in the tiny excuse of a refresher before throwing on a pair of pants and crashing on his bunk.

What to do after he was back on Coruscant with his report submitted? Do a few odd jobs to make sure he could keep his apartment and food in his belly. Maybe pay Mace a visit. The old rockface needed to be reminded how nikkle-nut insane he was every now and then. Count his savings to see how close he was to getting his own ship. Veg out in front of the holovid with a beer and some blue-sprinkled snackle puffs. Ask Harlene if she wanted to take a walk with him in a park where they could share a nice, peaceful conversation alone. He could also take her to a diner and finally get her a real cup of caf rather than that swill he always gave her out in the field. And maybe after that she could go back home with him and they could share yet another nice, peaceful conversation in private.

Nick blinked.

Where were all these ideas regarding Harlene coming from? And why was he getting them all of a sudden?

…and how exactly did he want that nice, peaceful conversation which took place in his private apartment to end?

His mind tried to come up with an answer, but it lost miserably to his hormones.

Nick groaned and slapped his hands over his face. "Oh, nuts. Oh, nuts, nuts,  _nuts…"_

Well, it was natural. He was a young, red-blooded male and it was impossible not to notice how much she had grown up since he first met her. Nor how  _well_ she had grown up. And he wasn't the only member of the 44th Division to have noticed. But as far as he could tell, none of them had made a move on her. No doubt because he was the one she always spent the most time with when she visited their camp. Nick grinned as smugness washed over him.

Okay, okay. He liked Harlene. Hell, he had been practically flirting with her over the past couple of months. Now what was he going to do about it?

His grin faded as he considered the possible answers to that question. A, he could tell her how he felt and risk her disgust, instant rejection or worse, pity. B, he could ignore his attraction and hope it would eventually go away. C, he could…

Um. C, he could…?

Huh. Guess there was only good old A and B then. And he wasn't an idiot enough not to know that B was out of the question. He wasn't the type of guy to just get over these things. Oh, there had been a couple of flings back on Haruun Kal before the Summertime War got as bad as it did, but those had been casual. And this was…what was it?

Nick considered it. Like most Korun men, he tended to be drawn toward strong-willed women. Independent women. Women who would pick up a gun and shoot it if they had to, or throw a powerful punch. Women who kept fighting even in the face of insurmountable odds. Women who were never afraid to speak their minds or share their ideas. Chalk had fit the bill a thousand times over and despite the ordeals she suffered, she had possessed a softer side that she wasn't afraid to expose to those close to her. She still laughed every now and then and even had a good sense of humor. As deep as her wounds went, she hadn't been afraid to live. And then there had been that exotic red hair and pale skin; quite rare for a Korun. He had admired her since the day they first met, and that admiration had quickly grown into something more. Something he had never felt for any girl before. And he had wanted it to grow even further.

Nick pushed down a wave of grief. He would never forget Chalk, but dwelling on the past was not his style. Harlene was in the present. Fierce, mysterious, Harlene who didn't need those creepy powers of hers to knock someone on their ass. Who wasn't afraid to say whatever was on her mind to anyone. She enjoyed a good fight and could be very sadistic, but only to people who really deserved it. Harlene, with her breathtaking smile that could make a man feel like he was the only man in the universe, and her exotic white skin, and her lovely eyes as dark as space…

Yep. He was pretty much doomed. Not quite. He wasn't in love. But that could change very, very quickly. And he still only had option A.

Nick nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door. He knew who it was and that knowledge made his heart race. He swung his legs over the bunk and didn't feel the cold floor against his bare feet.

"Calm. Breathe," he muttered to himself, pressing his fingers to his temples. "You're a fraggin' Major in the fraggin' Grand Army of the Republic. Seppies curse your name and quake with terror when they hear it. You can handle any fraggin' thing that comes you way."

"Nick? It's Harlene?"

He inhaled, held it, and let it out very slowly. Stang, why was he so nervous? He was never this nervous around Chalk. Well, he had known Harlene longer, and the realization that he was attracted to her had snuck up on him and bite him hard in the—

"Nick? Are you in there?"

"Yeah, I'm coming," Nick and pushed himself up, breathing deeply again. Feeling a bit more calm and confident, he answered the door.

She looked the same, and yet she didn't. Her beauty didn't strike him dumb like an idiot teenager, but for a moment all he could do was stare.

"Were you sleeping?" she asked, taking in his state.

"No," he answered quickly. A bit too quickly. He cleared his throat and stepped aside. "Come on in."

She almost never visited him in his quarters, but he still kept a stool around for when she did. But neither of them sat down right away.

"Nick, you don't have to tell me white lies. I know you just left Ossus. If you were sleeping—"

"No, no—I wasn't. Scout's honor." He held up a hand and grinned. Harlene smiled back, but he noticed the way her eyes flickered across his bare torso. She quickly looked away and Nick idly wondered if she used those freaky emotional barriers of hers to keep herself from blushing. He nearly asked her if she saw anything she liked, but something about the way she was carrying herself told him he would regret teasing her now. "Besides it's impossible for me to fall asleep hours after a big fight, you know that," he added.

"Sleeping isn't the same as resting," she insisted.

His grin began to fade. Did she want to leave? "I can catch up on Z's back on Coruscant. Or any kind of rest whatsoever. We just kicked major Sep ass. Okay, maybe we didn't kick 'em off the planet, but thanks to us, they'll be crying and licking heavy wounds for the next few months or so." He paused before saying in an overly casual voice. "You know, you've never been fussy about me getting enough rest."

"You just look tired." Harlene stopped and grimaced. "Sorry. I know I sound like I'm lecturing. I'm just glad you're getting a break."

"You, me, and everyone else on this ship." They both sat down. Before he could stop himself, he said, "You know for a second there, I thought you were getting bored with me."

She looked surprised. "You mean that?"

Oh, why the frag did he have to open his mouth? "Well…uh…"

"Nick, I find it very hard to believe that anyone could become bored with your company."

Just when he thought he could regain himself, she had to come out with something like  _that._  He stared at her face which wore a disbelieving smile. Probably blissfully ignorant that she was only making things worse, she added, "I meant that in a good way."

Nick blessed his dark skin as well as the poor light. Then again, Harlene looked really good in the dark. Almost ethereal with that glowing white skin and those long lashes that dusted her cheeks and that stray lock of black hair that rested against the bare skin of her collarbone—Goddammit!

Well, better that she think he was just flustered by what she said rather than that he was eyeing her up. "Yeah, well…" he cleared his throat and fiddled with a thread poking out from his cot. "I have my moments every now and then. Gotta keep sharp in case I meet a sep willing to blast himself after enduring the torture of a lame joke. Save me a shot or two."

She laughed. "That would work with some seps, but the sniveling greedy bastards who are just in it for the profit are usually so stupid that they would never know they were being made fun of."

Hopelessness twisted Nick's gut when he saw how her amusement lit up her face. Falling for someone like Harlene was easy, but for a long moment he felt like an utter fool for thinking he could tell her how he felt. A girl like this could have any guy she wanted. She had everything in spades, and what did he have to offer? He was okay-looking, but by no means 'devastatingly handsome' as he had often joked. The only thing about himself that he took true (and even excessive) pride in was his marksmanship skills. He was an excellent shot and knew it. And he was very good in a fight. In fact, Harlene had seen him in action more than once.

Then again, compared to her, he may as well be a crippled infant. He would freely admit that she could defeat him without her powers and with both hands tied behind her back.

"So, what's next for you?" her voice broke him out of his thoughts. "Count Dooku's dead. There's a chance the war will be won after General Grievous is captured or killed."

Nick sighed heavily. "It's a nice thought, but I'm not getting my hopes up. I never get my hopes up. You have to be able to show me that the war's really done before I start cheering."

"A CAA terrorist attack was thwarted a few days ago," Harlene said. "With all the damage they're doing, it's something we all desperately needed. Morale is boosting, and even though I'll take any victory over those motherfuckers, my main concern is the Virus Creed." The shadows on her face seemed to darken. "I won't relax until they're all dead."

Nick smiled grimly. "Y'know for a few moments, I actually forgot about them. If I survive this war, I'll probably be lucky to get a month of peace. Oh, I want to fight them, yeah." He sighed again. "I've been fighting all my life. Even my earliest memories are of fighting for something, though I don't know if it was for my life or for food. As a Korun kid living in Pelek Baw, the things you had to do just to get a single, rotten bite…" he trailed off.

"I know," Harlene whispered. "I became an assassin at the age of four just so I could survive."

"Yeah, well, at least you didn't have to let a filthy old man—" Nick mumbled without thinking.

"I did." She cut him off but without rancor. "You know I did. But it was for my life rather than for food."

Nick stared at her. He had heard her story, but for the first time he could actually feel the kinship between them. Almost as if she had the Force. A sudden sensation of peace filled him. He felt so comfortable with her. Right now he felt like he could tell her anything, everything.

_No._  His insecurity slammed down hard on those feelings.  _You tell her and you'll lose her forever. She probably has hordes of guys willing to serve her on hand and foot. Guys who have far more to offer than you do. You tell her, and she'll be so disgusted and embarrassed that she won't want anything to do with you._

"Nick, are you okay?"

She was staring at him in concern, and he realized that his fear was distorting his personal image of the Harlene that he knew. She was no gold-digger, nor was she shallow. She cared for people because of who they were. Granted it was still a mystery to him as to how the fraggin' hell she could care about someone like Kar Vastor, but he acknowledged long ago he would never get an answer to that. Harlene loved unconditionally. Okay, so that wasn't enough for him to tell her how he felt right off the bat, but maybe if he snuck a few subtle questions in the conversation…

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her with a casual wave of his hand. "I'll take whatever peace I can get, but the last thing I want is to grow fat and lazy on a moldy couch. After I take some time off, I'm gonna fulfill my highest ambition: become a galaxy-famous mercenary. That's where the real credits are."

"You also want a wife a children," Harlene pointed out. "But I wouldn't worry. There are countless girls out there who favor that kind of life."

Nick went still. Was she dropping a hint? He wasn't an expert on reading faces and this girl could make herself look like she was feeling anything. It was too risky to presume…but here was an opening handed to him on a silver platter.

"Well, I'd have to reconsider my career choice if there wasn't," he said. He mentally took a deep breath and asked, "What about you? You got a boyfriend?"

Her face was suddenly filled with so much pain and hatred that he blinked. It was gone by the time he opened his eyes again and he wondered, hoped that he imagined it.

"No, I don't."

The cold, mechanical way she said it didn't make him feel happy or even relieved.

"Having a family isn't something I particularly dwell on," she continued. "Maybe I'm too young to really think about it."

Something suddenly occurred to Nick. How old was she? She had been thirteen when he first met her and now she looked at least sixteen…but was she? The last thing he wanted was to admit his attraction to her and then have her tell him she was fourteen. The thought was beyond disturbing and he needed it eased now.

"Hey, um, Harlene?" He spoke slowly to keep the panic out of his voice. "How…how old are you?"

Her brow rose. "I don't know."

"Pardon?"

"I said I don't really know. Time passes seven times faster here than in my dimension. Maybe if I calculated all the days I've spent here…but I don't really care. If you want an estimate, I'm seventeen at the very least."

It took a lot of effort for Nick not to exhale and slump on his cot in sheer relief. There was only a five year age difference between them. He wasn't a creepy pervert. Thank the Force.

"Why don't you care?" he asked, feeling curious. "I mean, why doesn't it matter to you how old you are?"

She was silent for several seconds. "I've never really felt my age. Here, I'm seventeen, but I don't feel seventeen. At home, I'm officially fourteen, but I don't feel that either. I feel like an adult and I almost always express myself as an adult." She stared at him, her expression filled with soft affection. "You know, Nick, there are times when I really envy you."

He gaped.  _"What?"_

"When I first met you, I saw that you were a ruthless fighter who always shot first and asked questions later. But you could also be very immature, mouthy, whiny, obnoxious and hilarious. Like an overgrown child, even though at your core, you were an adult. You expressed that side of you freely and you didn't care who sneered at you or told you to grow up. I'll admit there were times when I wished you would…but then you wouldn't be you. I guess what I'm saying is none of the things you went through could rip away your inner child, and sometimes I wish I…"

She trailed off when she met his eyes. Apparently something in them made her very uncomfortable. Standing up, she abruptly turned away. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm babbling so much. You probably don't know—"

He cut her by taking her arms and turning her around to face him. "Yes," he said firmly. "I do."

Nick knew his expression was open, but he didn't care. He wanted her to see. After nearly a minute of silence, Harlene's face softened and she bowed her head, closing her eyes and smiling.

"Yes. Of course you do," she whispered. She met his eyes and smiled again. "I need to go now, but I'll see you on Coruscant."

But Nick's hands were locked firmly around her arms. Harlene frowned. "Nick-?"

After nearly being killed by Kar's bomb, he had stroked bloody tangles away from Chalk's lifeless face, tears pouring silently down his own. For a moment, he grieved for what could have been. More than that, he regretted not telling her how he felt. The excuse that he had given Mace was that it never felt like the right time. But when was the right time?

_There isn't_  he realized.  _There's never a right time. There's just the time that we have._

_There's just the time that we make use of._

"Harlene," he said very slowly, though it was impossible to mask his emotions. "I asked about a boyfriend because…what I want to know is…" His hand came up to lightly rest against her face. "What would it take…for a man to make  _you_  feel special?"

Her expression didn't so much as flicker. Then she roughly yanked herself away. Several emotions crossed her features like a barrage of cannon fire: alarm, then shock, then rage combined with deep disgust.

Then she was gone.

xXx

Half a minute after Harlene found herself on Coruscant, her comm rang. Grinding her teeth, she answered it.

" **You felt that didn't you?"**

"Yes," she spat.

" **Then you need to go check it out."**

Harlene wanted to demolish the skyscraper beside her with her bare hands. Of all the fucking times for that fucking bubble to shift…she should have demanded that somebody find a way to destroy the goddamn thing. Hell, she should have tried to destroy it herself.

" **I'm warning you apprentice—"**

"Yeah, yeah, I'm gonna check it out!" Harlene snapped and cut the link.

She had to check to see if there was a problem that would affect the reality. It was her duty. Fine. She would due her fucking duty. It wasn't like she had to see  _him_ again. She could just cloak herself, find the problem, fix it if she could and then go back to do some heavy apologizing and explaining.

Fuming, she cloaked herself and teleported. Before she could open her eyes

_(Time for a new lesson, Error Corrector.)_

A bomb exploded in her mind and stole her consciousness.

White lights greeted her upon awakening. Groaning, she pulled herself to her feet, grabbing the edge of something for support. When the spots and dizziness cleared, she realized that the edge she was holding onto was the edge of a sink. Looking left and right she saw a toilet and a small bathing area. She was in a bathroom. Or refresher. Whatever. It was very small, but elegant and something about it was very familiar.

But what the fuck was she doing in a refresher? Somehow the bubble had knocked her out and she ended up here. Harlene reached for the door, but stopped short when she caught her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets when she a rounder, younger face staring back at her. Frantically, she looked at her hands, then her body. Her clothes were the same, but she was shorter and the curves she had gained over the past three years were far more subtle. Looking back at her face again, she realized she was in her eleven-year-old body.

Forcing herself to calm down, she tried to summon her comm, but failed. A moment later, she discovered that none of her powers worked. After going through every foul word she had ever learned, she debated what to do. She definitely couldn't stay in this refresher even if she didn't have her powers or even a weapon. She was still and Error Corrector and had to investigate what was going on here. Keying the door open, she stepped outside and nearly collided with two men running down the halls. She recognized their uniforms: Royal Naboo Security Forces.

Gaining a strong hunch about where and when she was, Harlene followed them. When she was a few feet away from the cockpit of Queen Amidala's royal starship, she heard the voice of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

"…know Master Vos was on Tatooine. Qui-Gon must have requested his aide on the way here. Thank the Force. I'm going to help. Don't lower the ship unless one of us signals."

Twenty-five year old Obi-Wan Kenobi ran off with his lightsaber drawn. No one in the cockpit gave Harlene any suspicious looks or questioned her. She peered out the window where everyone present had their eyes locked.

Harlene saw a very much alive Qui-Gon Jinn and a tall, powerful Kiffar with long, black dreadlocks that she recognized as Quinlan Vos. Both were engaged in a furious duel with a cloaked Darth Maul. Maul was holding his own remarkably well, but then Obi-Wan entered the picture. Blades flashed and dust kicked up. Maul's blade spun desperately in an attempt to gain the upper hand, but this time Qui-Gon had two powerful allies. Within a minute, Vos took advantage of an opening and stabbed Maul in the chest.

Harlene's insides went cold. She didn't feel grief or rage. But this coldness…it was anything but pleasant. She ignored the cheers erupting around her and watched as Maul collapsed to the ground. Vos raised his blade to deliver the death blow, but Qui-Gon grabbed his arm and said something sharply. Reluctantly, Vos lowered his blade. All three Jedi stood over their defeated enemy. Maul stirred feebly, but was obviously incapable of standing up much less fighting. Obi-Wan waved to the ship and it began to lower. Qui-Gon and Vos bent over Maul's helpless form. Harlene couldn't hear what they were saying, but she knew they were having a debate with opposing views.

She also knew if Vos had his way, Maul would die.

Several tense moments passed. Finally, Vos stripped Maul of his lightsaber and frisked him for other weapons before he and Qui-Gon dragged their enemy upright. As Maul was half-carried toward the ship, Captain Panaka, the Naboo guards, Anakin and Padme left the cockpit. Harlene hesitated. She heard Panaka telling Anakin and Padme to stay back. Harlene bit her lip until she tasted blood before following them.

"Make sure your weapons are on stun," she heard Qui-Gon say. "We need to question him."

"This is an assassin sent by the Federation, Jedi," Panaka said sharply. "He was sent to kill Her Majesty."

"This is not a mercenary employed by the Trade Federation, Captain," Quinlan Vos said grimly. "We can bet all our lives on that."

Harlene maneuvered around an armed handmaiden on pure instinct and found herself in full view of a grievously wounded, prostrate Maul flanked by three Jedi. He was on his knees, head bowed. Suddenly he looked up. His blackened teeth were bared and his yellow eyes were blazing with agony and fury. But they widened when they met hers. Harlene couldn't tear her gaze away when she saw his rage mix with shock, deep relief and even deeper desperation.

Unfortunately, she wasn't the only one who noticed.

"Freeze!" Panaka shouted at her.

Reflexes kicking in, Harlene reached for her sword only to remember that she didn't have it on her and couldn't summon it. The stun blast hit her square in the chest. Before consciousness was stolen from her for the second time in under ten minutes, she was certain she heard a familiar, furious snarl.


	11. Chapter 11

 

" **How are her vital signs?"**

" **Her vital signs are fine and the safety programming hasn't budged. She's safe."**

" **But you're still worried sick."**

"…"

" **Okay, stupid comment, I know."**

" **I'm going to hack that bubble. Go back to work."**

" **As you wish."**

**xXx**

"…victory for the United States of America against the white supremacist organization, The Congress of Aryan Alliances. Authorities are currently tracking a signal from one of the CAA terrorists involved in today's attack on sector G92 of the Los Angeles Holographic Cooperation…"

"…heroes in the military as well as regular gamers…"

"…could be the moral boost that so many American citizens need…"

"…major victory for the CAA if our soldiers, citizens and foreign allies had not fought so hard…"

"…gamer Cassidy Cooper who leads a double life as Princess Fiona from Dreamworks Games claims she is not a hero and only did what any self-respecting American and human being would have done if their way of life was being threatened…"

A shriveled thumb flicked the screen off. Two pairs of bloodshot, watery blue eyes glared fiercely at the exhausted, unwashed survivors of Squad Kemp.

"That's a very interesting reaction, don't you all agree?" The Lord Grand Dragon inquired almost politely as he slowly paced back and forth. "In a span of a few short months, we have managed to scare the living shit out of not only the government, but the entire world. And because one- _insignificant_  attack is thwarted…I'm seeing rainbow faggot flags flying in the air, floating in the oceans, and dancing on the sidewalks."

"And being shit from the assholes of shit-bloods!" the Lady Grand Dragon exclaimed.

The Lord Grand Dragon gave a gracious nod. "That too."

Trent was stone-faced and stood at attention, but he was getting very nervous. This was not going to end well.

"All of you," the Lord Grand Dragon pointed at the Squad Kemp. "All of you have already been tainted. For years you've been breathing probably the filthiest shit blood in the entire universe." He stopped in front of Janis. Though he was hunch-backed, he still towered over her. "I can smell it on you." He put a hand on her breast-plate. "I can smell it in you."

He moved away, turning his back. His head was bowed, and he was silent for what seemed a very long time. Then he whirled around with surprising speed and bellowed, "I could have ALL OF YOU put to death like any retarded nigger! I could order your captain to gut you all right now, and he would do it. Why? Because he knows you're tainted, and he knows there is NO WAY," his voice rose to a shriek, "for you to PURIFY YOURSELVES!"

Spit was flying from his mouth. Some of it landed on Trent's face. He didn't blink.

For the second time, The Lord Grand Dragon turned his back on them.

"Get them out of my sight, Ethan."

**xXx**

Saberstaff practitioners were all but non-existent in the Jedi Order of today. It had been decided by past Council members that to desire to wield such a weapon would be to desire power by itself. In other words, a path to the dark side. Though they had not been uncommon on both sides during the great wars thousands of years ago, any Jedi worth Quinlan Vos's salt would be able to recognize a weapon designed by a dark sider.

Or worse, a Sith.

Narrowed dark eyes scanned the weapon that the Zabrak assassin had wielded for several moments before they closed. As a Kiffar, Quinlan naturally possessed psychometric abilities that the Force only amplified. Images flooded his mind, as well as emotions. He probed the Force deeper, but only found blocks as well as vast darkness.

_A Jedi lives in the light, my Padawan,_  Master Tholme's voice resonated in his mind.  _Remember that._

Quinlan retracted his consciousness and opened his eyes. He lowered the weapon to his side and set his jaw grimly. His two comrades waited for him to speak.

"I sensed dark side emotions: anger, hatred, fear. But there was also a great deal of suffering. I caught flashes of duels with training droids and the deaths of sentients and non-sentients. I'm not certain, but at least one was a Jedi. He can't be merely a Dark Jedi. There was far too much focus, single-mindedness. Like an animal being trained to obey at the slightest gesture of its master. It seems you were right, Master Jinn: the Sith have returned."

Padawan Kenobi paled. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, reopened them, and nodded once.

"The Force be thanked then that we have one in Jedi custody."

"But there's another, is there not?" Obi-Wan said apprehensively. "There are always two Sith. A Master, and an apprentice."

"I think it's obvious we have the apprentice," Quinlan said, setting the saberstaff on a nearby table. "And he wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon, regardless. I checked his wound myself. It's fortunate for him that I missed his hearts and his spine, but his left lung has sustained substantial trauma. If he so much as sits up too quickly, it could collapse altogether."

"But we don't want him dead. Do we?"

Quinlan ignored the edge in Qui-Gon's voice. "He can tell us the location of the Sith Master," he replied coldly.

"With respect, Master Vos, why would he?" Obi-Wan asked.

There was a knock on the door. Qui-Gon bade the visitor entrance. The door hissed open and a Rutian Twi'lek female barely into her teen years stepped inside and bowed respectfully.

"Masters. Fellow Learner Kenobi." She straightened before continuing. "The two prisoners have remained unconscious and secure. Her Majesty, Queen Amidala wishes to know if it is safe to travel to Coruscant yet."

Quinlan exchanged a look with Qui-Gon before nodding at his Padawan. "It is, Aayla. Please inform the Queen and Captain Panaka."

Aayla Secura bowed once more before exiting.

"He isn't the only prisoner we have," Quinlan said in response to Obi-Wan's question. "There's still the Human girl. You both saw the way they looked at one another. Moreover, you saw his face when he tried to lunge for Captain Panaka after she was shot."

"True, but I am still reluctant to presume they are allies," Qui-Gon said. "And that is no ordinary Human girl, Master Vos."

Quinlan was understandably shocked when he heard his comrade's account on who and what the girl was. After absorbing it, he frowned suspiciously.

"If she can do what you say, why couldn't she protect herself from a simple stun blast?"

"That is one of the many things we would all like to know," Qui-Gon replied. "But Obi-Wan and I are not the only ones who have seen her power. And we all know it was no illusion."

"Then we'll keep them both unconscious for the remainder of our journey to Coruscant," Quinlan said.

xXx

Vokara Che examined the wound of her latest patient. It wasn't long before she decided that the Force must have intervened to spare the Zabrak not only his life, but use of the lower half of his body. Master Vos could not have delivered such a blow with the intent of merely incapacitating his enemy.

The elderly Twi'lek and her three fellow healers treated the wound with bacta and bound it securely, though they all agreed that while their patient would live, he would be bedridden for months.

"Should we wake him?" One healer asked.

Vokara stared at their patient's prone form. Like her comrades, her eyes couldn't help but flicker to his tattoos and wonder if they were black, red or both.

"He'll need to be put in a healing trance right away if he's going to make the fastest recovery possible," she mused. "And he'll need to be fully conscious."

"He's not dangerous now," a Human male healer said. "With a wound like that, he shouldn't even be able to walk."

Vokara nodded. "Give him a stimulant."

A needle was slipped beneath the skin of the Zabrak's neck. A moment later, he stirred. Just as a patch was about to be placed over the tiny wound, black eyelids snapped open.

"Harlene?"

He thrashed. Vokara made to grab his arm and urge him to be still, but a powerful Force blast knocked her to the floor. Head swimming, she was vaguely aware of shouts and cries in the distance before she regained her bearings. Just as she had managed to get to her knees, a hand closed around her throat, irresistibly powerful.

"Where is she?"

Vokara choked and grabbed at the arm holding her in place. She found herself staring into a pair of blazing yellow eyes.

_"Where is she!"_

Vokara tried to gather the Force, but the hand around her throat grew tighter. Just as she thought her neck was about to be snapped, she was thrown to the floor.

xXx

Harlene's limbs were abnormally sluggish upon awakening. It only took a few seconds for her to remember what had happened, but getting her body to obey her right away was a struggle. Who the hell knew what they had dumped in her bloodstream to keep her out. She sat up slowly and shook her head to clear her glazed vision. Anger welled up when she saw the metal, undoubtedly locked door. Getting to her feet, she looked around. She had been lying on a cot that was clean and relatively comfortable. Looking to her right, she saw a tiny screened in refresher. The room itself was not too dark or bright.

But all of those things didn't change the fact that it was a prison cell.

Harlene immediately tried to teleport, but her powers still didn't work. She also couldn't summon her comm or a weapon, nor could she age her body. Glaring at the door, she resisted the urge to give it a sharp kick. Without her strength, she would probably only succeed in breaking a toe. She seethed for several moments before sitting down and analyzing her situation.

All right. The cell she was in was far too spacious to be located on a ship. She had to be on Coruscant. There was no doubt she had gone back in time to the Naboo Crisis. Maul too.

Now she had to really restrain herself from kicking something. Thanks to that fucking animal looking at her that way, everyone present had presumed they were in league together. Now she was a prisoner and her chest still throbbed from that stun blast.

Harlene's head jerked up when she heard footsteps outside as well as muffled voices. It took her only a second to decide that she wasn't going to pretend to be asleep.

The door hissed open. In stepped Mace Windu, Qui-Gon Jinn and Quinlan Vos. Harlene's gaze lingered on the Kiffar. Vaguely she remembered that he had been on Tatooine on an undercover mission during the time Oobadooba and company were stranded. In fact he had made the briefest of cameos during the actual  _Phantom Menace_  movie.

_Huh. Guess the bubble isn't exactly keeping up with canon,_  Harlene thought.

"Harlene Ballantine." Mace Windu's authoritative voice demanded her full attention. "I am Mace Windu, senior member of the Jedi Council. You already know Master Jinn. This is Master Quinlan Vos. You are currently in the Jedi Temple. We have several questions for you, and your stay here will depend on how well you cooperate."

"So I'm a prisoner," Harlene said flatly.

"No one is going to hurt you." Qui-Gon alone exhibited some compassion, but also sternness and suspicion. "But you need to answer our questions."

"We won't mince words," Vos said, his face hard. "You are a prisoner of the Republic and the Jedi."

"Well then the only options you have are to kill me or pray to God that my powers don't come back," Harlene said flippantly. "'Cause the moment they do, I'm outta here."

She had thought about how she was going to respond to them several minutes before they had come in. Since Qui-Gon had already witnessed her brutality and undoubtedly shared that information with his colleagues, they would see right through a façade of fearful submission. Even if she cooperated, the only way they would let her go was if she gave them solid information that led to Sidious's capture. But Harlene knew what the Jedi were now. She wasn't counting on them letting her go at all. But she could use their hypocrisy to her advantage. They never killed their prisoners, and her youth and perhaps her gender would be huge assets. Harlene felt a thrill go through her.

_Let's rumble, Jedi. I want to play_.

"So, you admit these powers of yours are gone?" Mace said.

"Malfunctions happen from time to time." Harlene shrugged. "But I can actually feel them coming back right now."

Vos took a step forward, towering over her. "Don't delude yourself into thinking you can bluff your way out of here."

Quinlan Vos was one of the few Jedi Harlene had any respect for, yet ironically he was one of the worst self-righteous hypocrites in the Order. He wasn't afraid of getting his hands dirty if it meant getting the job done, and his focus during the Clone Wars had been where it should be: finding and destroying the Sith. But in the end when he thought Sora Bulq was Darth Sidious, he didn't tell the Council because he thought killing Sora himself was the only way he could justify the blood on his hands. In other words, he would prolong the downfall of the most dangerous man in the galaxy so he could be right. The less cynical part of Harlene acknowledged that his main desire had been peace of mind. The Council had planted him as a spy in Dooku's camp during the Clone Wars. Therefore, he had to act like a Dark Jedi. When Dooku inevitably demanded that he kill to prove his loyalty, the entire Council had written him off as being lost to the dark side.

In a lot of ways, Quinlan was similar to Anakin. But like Anakin, several of his traits were infuriating enough that Harlene would exploit them with substantial pleasure.

Her brow rose at the Kiffar. "Are you trying to intimidate me? Because if you are, you're doing a very bad job at it."

Vos's jaw tightened, and his hand twitched.

"Go on. Hit me," Harlene whispered. "Just don't be disappointed when I laugh."

"Enough." Mace said sharply, taking a step forward and swiping the air with his hand. "Your insolence won't make your situation better. Your Sith friend is gravely injured, and in our custody. You are gravely mistaken if you believe he'll rescue you."

"He's not my friend," Harlene spat.

Mace Windu appeared completely unimpressed. "Lying will do you less good than goading us, Observer. That Sith is extremely concerned for you. According to one of our healers, your name was the first word that came out of his mouth upon awakening. After attacking several other healers, he grabbed one by the throat and continuously demanded to know your whereabouts."

"I paid him a personal visit not an hour ago," Vos said. "He weakened himself so much it was pointless to restrain him. He looked like he was battling unconsciousness, but after demanding to know where you were, he proceeded to inform me that he would disembowel any Jedi who so much as looked at you."

There was a long silence. All three Jedi stared at Harlene whose face had gone blank. When she finally replied, her voice was cool and bored.

"So he likes to make empty threats. What's your point?"

Of course that wasn't the answer they wanted. Beneath that sanctimonious calm, she could tell she was starting to get under their skin.

"Vokara Che, the healer he choked, claims that he released her a mere moment before reinforcements rushed in," Mace said. "All of us are undoubtedly shocked. Vokara insists he could have killed her, but let her go all on his own free will. Do you have any idea as to why?"

The answer to that was obvious. Maul wanted her back, and didn't think killing one of her "heroes" would earn him any brownie points.

"Answer the question!" Vos snapped.

Harlene's face was the pinnacle of calm as she stared at Vos in complete silence. Qui-Gon and Mace exchanged looks.

"We'll give you some alone if you wish," Qui-Gon said. "But I advise you to think carefully, Harlene. If you are truly acquainted with the Sith you will know two things: there is always a Master and an apprentice, and they are not tolerant of failure. Your friend's Master will not be pleased when he discovers you both are captives of Jedi."

It was a good tactic, but it wouldn't work with her. She smiled with satisfaction when she was alone again.

xXx

In the Council Chambers, Master Yoda listened in silence as the three Jedi Masters made their report. He closed his eyes, testing the currents of the Force, before speaking.

"Not as Force-blind as she thinks, this Observer is. The malfunctioning of her powers at the exact same time a Sith is captured alive? No coincidence that is."

"She has not threatened us with the retribution of her superiors," Qui-Gon said. "In fact, she expressed absolutely no concern for herself."

"I agree that she's not an ordinary child, or even right in the head," Quinlan said. "Goading me to hit her is evidence enough of that."

"We need to decide what to do quickly," Mace said. "While we still don't know if her claims of who and what she is are true, we also don't know if or when her powers will come back."

"A visible enemy the Observer is," Yoda said. "Deal with her soon, we shall. But faceless is the Sith Master. Finding him, our priority should be, as well as dealing with the apprentice. The decision of the Council it is that placed in the custody of Masters Jinn and Vos he shall be."

"The apprentice is our best bet at finding the Sith Lord," Ki-Adi-Mundi said. "Perhaps it would be best to question him while he is weak from his injuries."

"With respect, Master Mundi," Vos said. "We will need to do more than question him."

"To a dark place that thought will take all of us," Yoda cautioned.

"I was not referring to physical torture, Master Yoda," Vos responded. "Our goal is to find the Sith Lord. Escaping here and returning to the Sith Lord should be the goal of the apprentice. But that doesn't seem to be the case. Ever since awakening, he has continuously expressed just one concern: the location and welfare status of Harlene Ballantine."

After that sunk in, Mace explained what Harlene had revealed during her interrogation.

"Her hostility is genuine, but I saw the Sith's face when he looked at her aboard Queen Amidala's ship," Vos said. "It was as if he was pleading with her. I think they were allies, or perhaps something more in the past, but some action of his changed that."

"Does he…" Master Koth looked as if he couldn't believe he was going to ask this. "Does he love her?"

Ludicrous as it sounded, they all took the question seriously.

"I felt his fear and his rage during my visit," Vos said. "It was twisted and selfish. If he does love her, it's purely possessive. Regardless, we can use it to our advantage."

"Master Vos, are you suggesting we hold the girl hostage and hope the apprentice will reveal the location of the Sith Lord?" Saesee Tiin asked.

"She's a prisoner," Vos countered. "It's not the same thing. And she made it very clear that she has no intention of cooperating with us."

"We'll tell him that the Observer is injured, but we won't clarify how badly," Mace said. "We'll also tell him she is detained here. We will then garner his reactions, and go from there."

"So certain are you that compromise the loyalty of his Master for possessive love, he will?" Yoda asked.

"There's only one way to find out," was the blunt reply.

xXx

None of the Jedi healers came back, even after Maul lost his battle against unconsciousness. When he found himself lying naked on the floor with his legs tangled in a white sheet, he knew he had scared them into leaving him alone for the time being. But the satisfaction he felt was so brief it was practically inconsequential.

_(the Jedi have Harlene_ )

He was grievously injured. He was a prisoner of the Jedi right in their Temple where every molecule around him was drenched in the cloying stench of the light side.

_(the Jedi have Harlene)_

Agony from a wound he had never received before continued to chew his strength. If he didn't go into a healing trance, he could die.

_(The Jedi have Harlene)_

But all of that paled in comparison to one thought that seared his mind as it played over and over again.

_The Jedi have Harlene._

Clenching his teeth against a scream, he pulled himself to his knees after kicking the sheet away. Sweat beaded his brow. A fiery blast of agony followed every breath he took. He had to remain still for almost two minutes before even thinking of standing.

_The Jedi have Harlene._

When he was on his feet, it took over five more minutes for the disorientation to clear. He barely felt the sweat rolling down his face, dripping onto his chest. His clothing and boots were lying on a table by the medical cot. No doubt the Jedi left them in tact so they wouldn't damage potential hidden weapons or clues. He dressed himself slowly and carefully, determined to save what little strength he had for a fight. When he was finished, he sank to the floor on his haunches, unable to stand any longer. His tunic was slightly open, revealing the bandages concealing the hole in his chest. The blood seeping through the white gauze was a telltale sign of what had taken place earlier.

When he let that old Twi'lek healer go.

When he let a Jedi go.

She had not told him what he wanted to know. She was a Jedi. The instinct to snap her neck should be the same as his instinct to breathe.

_(No, Maul. I can't wait to see my precious, noble heroes at long last.)_

When his hand sprung open, the backlash of defying near droid-like programming in his mind caused him to freeze, giving the Jedi rushing in from outside the perfect opportunity to subdue him thought they needn't have bothered. They thought he was unconscious when they left, but he wasn't. Harlene. She had been shot. A stun blast. The Naboo guard had hit her with a stun blast. It didn't matter if he shot her in the chest. It was a stun blast. Just a stun blast. He had seen it. His injury had not distorted his vision. She was all right. She would wake up in three hours at the very least. He would find her. He would. He would…

The Kiffar Jedi responsible for his injury loomed above him. He was tall and powerful. Ruthless as well, Maul knew. Far more ruthless than the average Jedi. Maul would have met those cold, dark eyes with a stony silence that would mark him the stronger of the two, but the thought of Harlene in the clutches of this particular Jedi overrode his discipline. To make a verbal threat he could not carry out right away was an unforgivable display of weakness. But he cursed himself more harshly for staring at Harlene on the Queen's ship. It had compromised her safety. But seeing her in the flesh had been like drinking water after days of roaming the desert…

Several hours after her departure with nothing but cold metal and even colder silence for company, he had placed the emitter of his lightsaber to his own temple. When he didn't hear Harlene, Lord Sidious, or the Voice, his thumb hovered over the activation plate. Before he could squeeze it, a red light glinted out of the corner of his vision. Looking down, he saw it was the red crystal of the destroyed lightsaber.

Harlene was gone. There was no reason to live. She would not come back. Not after he had betrayed her so.

…but what if she did?

His thumb retracted. He honestly hadn't expected her to return to him willingly after Tatooine, but she had. What if she returned again, even if it was just on the most grudging of whims, only to find his decaying corpse marred by a telltale suicidal wound?

An image as vivid as a Force vision conjured in his mind: Harlene standing over his body, disgust twisting her beautiful features into something ugly. Disgust at him for his weakness, but also disgust at herself for coming back only to discover how foolish she had been to believe he was strong. She then walks away without a backward glance. He really was nothing, she thinks. Now I can forget him forever.

Maul had lowered his arm so quickly, his fist struck his thigh. Harlene had mourned him when he died and missed his presence. Her reaction had been joyful upon his return. In her current hatred of him, she now desired to forget him.

Never. She couldn't forget him. He wouldn't allow it. The only chance he had at receiving her deeply undeserved forgiveness was to show her that he was strong. That he would endure the punishment of her absence for as long as she drew it out. She could not forget him. He would endure. No matter how many needles the cold drilled into his flesh, no matter how loud the silence got…no matter how difficult it got to focus his anger and fear into strength…no matter if his nightmares were so terrible, sleeping was outright impossible…no matter how little relief destroying his dueling droids got…be strong…endure…

Then in a flash, Maul had found himself on Tatooine in the Scimitar. The dark eye came back to report on the location of the Jedi. Now he was here, in the Jedi Temple. The Voice was responsible of course. There was no other explanation. It had sent both him and Harlene back in time. For what? Personal amusement? It would make perfect sense if it was just Maul, but why Harlene?

Harlene. She was a prisoner here. Thanks to his carelessness, the Jedi thought they were allies.

And she didn't have her powers.

Maul eyed the door. His lips peeled off his teeth. Unable to stand it anymore, he summoned what little Force energy he could and hurled himself against the door.

When he awoke, his shoulder ached and he was unable to move. The blood soaking the bandage reeked of death.

He was a captive of the Jedi. They wanted the location of Lord Sidious. He would rip his heart out with his bare hands before betraying his Master. Harlene. They had Harlene. Would she betray him? He had betrayed her. She would betray him as revenge. He would have to kill her. There was no choice. He would kill her, and every Jedi…every Jedi would die screaming and in agony. He would dedicate his life to their suffering. They would all know pain beyond pain…

But he was dead to Lord Sidious, wasn't he? This was all some hallucination that the Voice was putting them both through. Nothing he or Harlene revealed would matter. Maul felt relief, but it was distant. Shallow. Not because he shouldn't feel relief at not needing to kill Harlene, but because…because…

A swishing sound followed by footsteps. Maul reached out with the Force. It was the Kiffar.

"There are a lot more elegant ways to take one's life. But something tells me you aren't ready to die just yet."

With great effort, Maul lifted his head up. The Kiffar stood with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were filled with the usual cold contempt, but there was also a trace of triumph and smugness. This was most definitely an unorthodox Jedi. He lacked the sanctimoniousness that oozed off of his comrades.

"Where is your Master?"

Maul nearly laughed.  _You will get nothing but my silence, Jedi. Let it bloat your arrogance until it rises and expands in your throat to choke the life out of you._

"If you won't answer, perhaps your friend will," the Kiffar said in even tones. "She woke up recently, but it will still take her some time to recover. Not nearly as long as you though."

Reveal nothing. The Jedi would receive nothing but his silence.

"Do you love her, Sith?"

His mind went completely blank at the question. Then hatred rose. He knew the only significant thing about love: it was a flaw more fatal than compassion. It weakened beings to unfathomable degrees. Harlene made him strong. Therefore, he could never feel love for her.

"No. You don't," the Jedi said. "I can sense it. But you revealed enough. You and the girl are allies. Both of you know where the Sith Master is and the Council agrees we will have more success if we focus on questioning her rather than you. But if you think we shouldn't…be sure to let us know, Sith."

He smiled grimly at Maul's wheezing growls before exiting.

xXx

" **Harlene? Oh, thank God. Are you all right?"**

"Yep, I'm fine," Harlene replied, leaning back casually. "Just had a bit of bubble trouble."

" **Are your powers working now, and are you back in your real body?"** Claire asked after Harlene gave her an overview of the situation.

"Yes to both," Harlene said. "One of the many things that the Jedi are woefully ignorant about me is, drum roll, I don't bluff."

" **Due to my lack of personal insight, I should ask what you're planning to do."**

"The interface will alert me for when the Jedi come to visit my cell. I don't know why the hell it shifted this way, but I've decided I want to have some fun."

" **Are you certain, apprentice?"**

"Well, let's see: I'm in a position where I can torment people I loathe without fear of interfering, I can come and go as I please, and Darth Maul is currently a prisoner in the Jedi Temple with a hole in his chest the size of a grapefruit." Her voice dropped several degrees. "All in all, life can't get any better than this at the moment."

Her mentor didn't reply for several seconds.

" **Harlene, are you certain?"**

"Okay, life could get a lot better if countless other things happened, but beggars can't be choosers—"

" **That's not what I meant and you know it."**

"Claire, I can and I will hang up on you."

Her mentor's voice grew icy and disapproving.  **"I was only going to say make sure you know what you want. Because some things can never be undone."**

Harlene frowned when the link went dead. From her perch on a skyscraper she watched the Jedi Temple in the distance.

"Good fucking riddance," she muttered and teleported.

xXx

It was official: Nick Rostu was an idiot.

Actually, no. To call him an idiot would be an insult to idiots. He wasn't an idiot. He was a pathetic, wishful-thinking, snot-for-brains, living-in-an-adolescent-fantasy, should-have-expected- _that_ -one-coming, what-the-frag-had-he-been- _thinking_  idiot. That was far more accurate.

After delivering his report, going through a bit of political mumbo-jumbo and being relieved of duty for the time being, he made his way back to his apartment. Once the door closed behind him, he flicked the lights on and threw his bag on the couch before throwing himself on it and burying his face in his hands, breathing deeply.

Calm down, he told himself. It's not the end of the galaxy. A huge part of you knew something like this would happen. Just pick it up and move on.

Harlene ripping herself from his arms, loathing and disgust written all over her face. Disappearing.

The scene had played over in his mind for what seemed like a million times over the last twenty-four hours. It was always followed by a white-hot knife twisting in his heart and a voice laughing at how much he deserved it. And he did deserve it.

What the frag had he been  _thinking?_

There was only one logical answer: he hadn't been thinking. He had simply let his hope and his attraction fuck with his mind to the point where his better judgment dissipated like volcanic fumes. But she had looked so beautiful, and he had felt such a deep connection to her. That conversation had been different. He thought they had reached a deeper level of understanding. Maybe she hadn't felt it as much as he did, but had she felt anything at all?

He wasn't angry at her. Why should he be? She had never expressed anything but friendship for him, never hinted that she wanted their relationship to go further. It was stupid of him to assume that she could have felt something new from a conversation that may have been deeper, but still platonic. Stupid to assume. Stupid, stupid,  _stupid._

Lurching to his feet, he went to the kitchen to get a beer. When he saw that he had three left, he considered downing them all during the night or visiting the tavern down the street. Yeah, that would complete his current pathetic state in the traditional way: getting drunk after being shot down by a girl. He took a swing of beer and grimaced.

_(Harlene's face. So twisted, so disgusted, what the hell were you thinking?)_

He slammed the bottle down on the counter. That did it. He would get drunk tonight, if only to forget that look that was now threatening to drive him insane. Glancing at the chronometer, he saw that the night was young and ready. Just as he was getting his jacket on, a knock sounded on his door.

"Nick? It's Harlene. Open up."

Nick froze. Stunned.

"Nick! Open the door!"

He didn't move as his surprise mingled with other emotions. Dread, insecurity, and yes, anger and bitterness. If he was completely honest with himself, he didn't blame her for her reaction, but still…they were friends. Friends were supposed to care about your feelings. If she didn't want a relationship, would it have killed her to simply say so rather than looking at him that way and then disappearing without a word? Then again, he had come onto her in a completely clumsy spur-of-the-moment way, and asked that ridiculously question 'what would it take for a man to make  _you_  feel special?' Shee. How much cheesier could he have sounded…?

"Nick, I swear to God, if you don't open this door in five seconds, I'm gonna kick it clear across your apartment! Five, four, three—"

Sighing heavily, he went over to the door and opened it just as Harlene got to one.

They stared at each other. Nick saw genuine, even deep remorse on her face, but also determination.

"Can I come in?" she asked quietly.

He broke eye contact with her before nodding and stepping aside. He then braced himself for a super-awkward silence.

"I would never have done something like that unless I had a very, very good reason."

Then again, this was Harlene. Nick leaned against the wall, still not fully looking at her. But she was practically staring holes into him.

"I'm sorry, Nick."

A laugh forced itself from his throat before he could stop it. To him, apologies were one of the most useless things in existence. What was done was done. Unless 'sorry' could turn back time there was no point in uttering it.

"Hey, it's…" he waved a hand, forcing a tight smile. "It's cool, y'know? I understand. I had…I didn't have any business coming onto you like that—"

"Nick, it's not about—"

"Harlene, don't. Don't apologize. Don't do anything. I'm fine. I promise. There's nothing—"

"Yes, there is, Nick! I—"

"Okay, stop, I mean it." Why did she have to do this? She knew him well enough to know that he didn't do this kind of stuff. He had to stop her before this tightening in his chest got worse. "Look, Harlene, I get it all right? I understand. You don't have to say anything. We don't have to speak of this again. Let's just forget it ever happened—"

This time Harlene cut him off, but by grabbing his arms and pinning him against the wall rather than sharp words.

"No," she said quietly. "We are not going to forget it ever happened. Or do I need to remind you of how much you regretted not having a particular conversation with Liane before she died?"

Nick's eyes widened. Then he scowled. "That's low, even for you."

"Maybe." She released him. "But with what's going on right now, is there a difference?"

His scowl melted away. She was right. They were both fighting wars, and would be idiots to count on being alive the next day. Or even the next hour. Nick would be lying through his teeth if he said he wasn't afraid of dying…but that paled in comparison to the fear of living with regrets. Finally meeting Harlene's eyes, he straightened up and folded his arms.

"Why did you disappear like that?"

"A few weeks ago, I discovered a branch in this dimension," she replied. "We call them bubbles. But this one exhibited some unstable qualities so I was assigned to watch over it in case it threatened the dimension. During our…conversation, I sensed a shift in it. I had to leave and see what the problem was."

"Really?" Nick said dryly. "That seems awfully coincidental, hmmm?"

"Nick, one thing that you need to know about me is that I live in irony. I wish I was being a bratty little drama queen when I say that, but it's true. Irony loves to make fun of me. And sometimes innocent bystanders like you get caught in the crossfire."

Her answer would have amused Nick, but there was still the question he dreaded as much as he needed it to be answered.

"Listen, I'm not saying you're lying…but that doesn't explain why you looked so…" he trailed off.

Harlene closed her eyes for a second before nodding. "There's…there's someone living in the bubble. We were…not friends, but…" she took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "He betrayed me in a way I never would have thought him capable of. I never wanted to go back to that bubble again, but I had to when I sensed the shift in it."

There was pain in her eyes. Very familiar pain. Nick's hand shifted toward his blaster as a cold rage filled him.

"You want him dead?"

She blinked. "What?"

"You said you can't interfere directly. But your rules don't apply to me. If you want that son of a ruskakk dead, you just say the word."

Harlene's smile was fond. "Thanks Nick. But he's getting his right now. You can count on that."

"Well, good," Nick replied with satisfaction. He clasped his hands and sighed. "So, what now?"

Her brow rose. "You'll have to be more specific than that."

"Well, I could repeat the question I asked you before." He drew out the syllables cautiously. "But if I do that, I run the risk of being a cad."

"Nick, what he did has nothing to do with your feelings for me," Harlene said sharply. "I'm erasing him from my life. He has absolutely no power over any decisions I make for myself. What's more, I'm not going to make you ask me again. I'm going to give you an answer."

Nick stared at her, unable to break eye contact if his life depended on it. Her face was unreadable which made his shock, hope and dread churn in his stomach.

"I've become…more aware of myself recently." Harlene spoke very slowly. "I think it just snuck up on me out of the clear, blue sky. And during our conversation—okay even a little before that—I began to feel something different for you. It's shocking because I thought I would shun feelings like that for a while after being betrayed so badly. But I didn't feel afraid, or angry." Nick began to inch closer to her, and she didn't back away. "And then you looked at me…you asked me…and then you…"

Maybe it was cliché of him to cut her off with a kiss, but who fraggin' cared? Her eyes told him there wasn't any need to go on. Even he knew there were times when you had to stop jabbering and start acting.

Her lips were soft and warm, and they held something far deeper than anything he had ever experienced. This was definitely not something casual or something that would satiate mere physical desire. He wanted to lose himself completely and he did. When her arms came up, he deepened the kiss, but the sound Harlene made in the back of her throat was one of protest rather than pleasure.

They broke apart, panting and staring at each other, wide-eyed.

"Harlene, what-?"

"That was my first kiss, Nick."

The blunt statement was like a club banging him over the head.

"Oh, shit," he breathed, panic and remorse flooding him. Why hadn't that crossed his mind? How could he have jumped her like a lust-crazed son of a ruskakk? Had he hurt her? "Oh, fucking stang…Harlene, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I don't know why the frag I-!"

He stopped due to Harlene placing her fingertips on his lips. Instead of condemnation in her eyes he saw…seduction?

"Want to give me another one?" she breathed.

He gaped at her. Then as his heart began to swell, his mouth birthed a grin that threatened to split his face.

"Don't mind if I do," he rasped and seized her in his arms.

This time, he was far more gentle, keeping the kiss still while moving one hand behind her cloak to cup her lower back, the other snaking up to bury itself in her soft hair. Only when Harlene had her arms around his shoulders did he begin to move his lips. He was very slow and tender, encouraging her to meet him. He could feel her awkwardness and inexperience, but only in the physical movements. When they broke apart, she was slightly more breathless than he was.

"Guess I should learn how to time my breaths better, huh?" she joked in a soft voice.

He gazed down at her. "I'm more than happy to teach you," he said. He brought his face closer to hers and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. "Stay with me tonight?" he whispered.

Several emotions filled her eyes at his words, but there was no awkwardness in her voice when she replied. "Yes." A moment later she asked with a hint of hesitancy, "Nick…?"

"Yeah?"

"…I don't feel ready to have sex with you yet."

Nick's brow rose to his hairline.

"Well, you're a blunt one, aren't you?"

A mock-scowl appeared on her face. "What, you would rather I beat around the bush or stammer my way through an embarrassed explanation? Okay, Nick…" she adopted an exaggerated embarrassed voice. "I…I don't want…I'm not ready…I don't want…that…right now…okay…?"

Nick laughed, shaking his head. "All right, point taken."

She smiled and kissed his cheek. "Thanks for understanding."

"I wouldn't pressure you," he said. "Okay, I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I wasn't hoping, but hey…" He stroked her face. "You take all the time you need, you hear?"

So, contrary to his original plans, Nick didn't get piss-drunk. Instead he shared a simple, but enjoyable meal with Harlene and stayed up until midnight talking with her. As they laughed and told amusing story after amusing story, he forgot about the Clone Wars and the troubles of the galaxy.

Just like when he kissed her.

Harlene waited in his bedroom while he showered. When he emerged, wearing only drawstring pants, he had to ignore some very dirty thoughts when he saw her lying on his bed. Okay, her choice of sleepwear wasn't outright provocative, but his gaze lingered on her pale, graceful arms and the shadow of her cleavage. They shared a deep kiss before Harlene curled up against his chest. Nick buried his face in her hair, and sighed. For the first time in what seemed like a lifetime, he felt warm, relaxed and comforted. It was such a rare feeling, and he knew that he wouldn't be falling asleep for a couple of hours at least. Harlene apparently was in the same mind, what with her hand stroking his back and all. It felt so nice. Just a simple touch…

…that slowly got even lower.

Her hand didn't stay between his shoulder blades for long. It proceeded to stroke the middle of his back and didn't stop there.

Nick went rigid and peered down. Judging by her closed eyes and the serene look on her face, she probably didn't realized that her touch, while relatively innocent, was not having a very innocent affect on him. At all.

She finally got to his lower back. It felt really good and frag it, he  _really_  didn't want her to stop. But if she didn't, he was going to start getting very ungentlemanly very fast.

He grabbed her arm gently but firmly.

"Um…Harlene…?" He had to clear his throat as his voice had gone hoarse. "Um…look, I know you're not trying to tease me or anything...and I wasn't lying when I said to take all the time ya need, but, um…" he gave a very unsteady laugh. "I'm not exactly a saint, y'know?"

She looked confused. Then she drew back from him a bit. He couldn't read the emotion on her face, but it was so intense he nearly drew back. She was looking at his eyes…yet she wasn't. It almost appeared as if she was staring at an extremely complex puzzle and trying to figure it out.

Then normalcy returned to her gaze.

"Sorry," she whispered.

Nick tilted his head in a Korun-style shrug and smiled. "Don't worry about it. Just…save it for another time, okay?"

"Okay."

She splayed her hand in the middle of his back, but didn't move it. Nick did the same and tried to relax as he silently vowed to himself that he was not going to screw this up.

xXx

Harlene half expected the interface to alert her that her cell was about to be visited after she and Nick had fallen asleep. Unfortunately, that didn't quell the desire to smash the table beside her.

She knew Nick had to be quite the light sleeper, so she used a considerable part of her stealth training to retract herself from his arms. He shifted in his sleep, but didn't awaken. Harlene had already prepared a datapad the night before with a message saying that she had been called away and that she would see him soon. She dropped it by the night table before changing into her eleven-year-old body and teleporting.

Quinlan and Qui-Gon found her lying on the cot. She sat up as they entered.

"Have you given what we told you any thought?" Vos asked.

Something told her that Vos had wanted to interrogate her alone, but Qui-Gon insisted on coming along. Not that it mattered.

"Well, if I recall correctly, all you did was ask me questions, and tell me things that I already knew or could have guessed at." She raised a mask of innocent confusion. "So, what exactly was I supposed to have thought about?"

Harlene wouldn't have been surprised if Vos had hit her then and there if Qui-Gon hadn't been behind him.

"Harlene, I know you are aware of how much the Sith are a threat to the galaxy," Qui-Gon said gravely. "Your alliance with them alone makes you partially responsible for the damage they have caused and will cause. Do you honestly want that on your conscience?"

So he was trying to play on her compassion was he? Well, at least Qui-Gon possessed a shred of real sincerity. They could spend a few hours bantering on how Harlene could "redeem" herself by giving them Sidious's location. But this was a bubble, so Harlene chose to pursue the entertaining path rather than the noble one.

"You really haven't had any success in questioning the apprentice, have you? That's probably the only reason why you're bothering with me at all."

"You know the location of the Sith Lord," Vos stated.

_"'The'_  location, Master Vos?" Harlene said. "Are you really so narrow-minded as to believe that a Sith Master could remain hidden from you for decades by staying in only one location?" She shook her head. "This isn't something I can help. Only another Sith could."

"We have the apprentice—"

"You have nothing, Master Jinn," Harlene said with a look of weary pity on her face. "He's not going to tell you a damn thing. Sith only do what's best for themselves. It's a universal truth. And I'm not referring to their physical well-being. You'll only embarrass yourselves if you try to interrogate him. You'd have better luck getting answers out of a corpse."

They left soon after that. Their stoic masks hadn't cracked, but Harlene knew that they had believed her, even if they didn't realize it yet. She stared at her hands, welcoming a sudden emotional rush.

The power.

_Feels good…_

xXx

"We have to come to a decision now," Mace Windu said in the Council meeting that night. "There is a Sith out there who is planning to destroy the Republic. By delaying, we give him the advantage. Master Vos's plan may still have merit, but so far the apprentice has shown no sign of cooperating."

"A new tactic we have decided on," Master Yoda agreed. "A drastic one it is, but drastic times these are."

"What do you have in mind?" Qui-Gon asked.

The ancient Master met his gaze.

"Heard the story of Darth Revan, have you?"

Qui-Gon exchanged a confused frown with Quinlan.

"I can't say I have."

"Incredibly gifted as a Jedi, Revan was. Carried the Republic to victory in the ancient Mandalorian Wars, he did, by using his military genius. But devastated the Republic soon became after Revan turned Sith. However, redeemed Revan was when the Jedi Council altered his memories and created a new personality."

"His memories as a Sith were buried deep in his unconscious, but he was no longer Darth Revan," Mace said. "Thanks to the Council's efforts, Revan became a Jedi again, and used the subconscious memories of his past life to find the location of the Star Forge. He returned to the light side and saved the galaxy."

"A Jedi this apprentice should have been, and a Jedi he shall become," Yoda declared. "Make it so we will."

"You can't be serious."

All heads turned to Qui-Gon whose face was pale and disbelieving.

"This goes beyond interrogation, beyond any ethical breach we as Jedi could ever commit. It's unthinkable!"

"If this works, he can tell us the location of the Sith Lord," Quinlan countered. "The galaxy will be safe."

"You are talking of stealing the identity of a sentient being for your own gain! That is the way of the Sith, not the Jedi!"

"If the Council hadn't acted when they did with Revan, his apprentice Darth Malak would have turned the Republic into a Sith Empire," Mace said flatly. "We are giving the apprentice the opportunity to redeem himself. We will not be poisoning his mind with the dark side or Sith lies."

But Qui-Gon was staring at his fellow Jedi as if he had never seen them before.

No. As if he was truly seeing them for the first time.

"I sense that your minds are made up," he said in a cold, controlled tone. "But this is something I will take absolutely no part in."

He turned on his heel and left.

Five minutes later, after praying for the Force and his Padawan to forgive him, he headed toward the prison cells.

xXx

Harlene wasn't surprised when Qui-Gon stopped by less than an hour later. But she was surprised when she saw how ashen his face was.

"Did you ever care for him?"

She blinked. "What?"

"The Sith, Harlene. The apprentice. Did you ever care for him?"

He sounded urgent. So urgent that she didn't sneer at his questions.

When she didn't answer, he went up to her and gripped her upper arms. "The Council has come to a decision. And in doing so, they have forsaken everything they once stood for."

"What are you talking about?"

He told her. When he was finished, she found she couldn't breathe.

"I cannot stop them," he continued. "I can only distance myself. But I know you were not lying before. Your powers have returned."

She gaped at him, realizing what he was implying. "Qui-Gon…"

He released her and took a step back. For the first time, he looked as old as he was.

"I'm telling you this because if you choose to…you will be saving more than one soul."

With that he left.

xXx

How much time had passed? And hour? A day? A year? It was impossible to tell.

He was laying on the floor, paralyzed, the coppery taste of blood lingering in his mouth. He had rammed the door again with his shoulder, and only succeeded in tearing something inside. Perhaps he would die if he did it again.

The Jedi have Harlene.

The Kiffar Jedi had not come back. Nor had any of the others. Fools. Arrogant fools. They thought if they ignored him for a while, the isolation would drive him mad and he would tell them what they wanted to know. Such miserable, arrogant fools.

When that particular delusion melted away, Maul became fully aware as to why they were leaving him alone.

Harlene.

What were they doing to her?

She wasn't of the Force, so probing her mind would be impossible. But they wanted Lord Sidious, their sworn enemy, dead. And there was nothing they wouldn't do to make it so, no matter how sanctimonious and self-righteous they were.

But what would they do to make Harlene tell them?

He honestly did not know.

That was what he hated most of all.

A number of possibilities drifted through his mind. Many of them involved the Kiffar Jedi. Eventually his rage enabled him to sit up again.

What were the Jedi doing to her?

He breathed in and out in slow, harsh wheezes. Breathing itself was quite difficult now, and not just because of his chest wound. There was a tightness in his stomach that had started forming not too long ago, and it was only getting worse. Maul eyed the door. Somewhere beyond it was another cell containing a bound, helpless Harlene and any number of Jedi doing…doing…

The rage he recognized right away, but the clenching in his stomach he did not, even when it was followed by a rush of adrenaline that was painful yet made his senses sharper. It was…

…fear?

But that was impossible. Fear did not make him feel stronger right away. He had to focus it, channel it. Let the dark side flow through him. How could fear lend him power without the dark side?

Maul snuffed out his confusion like an irritating candle. He did not have to know how. Fear was his ally, and if it automatically gave him strength, he would not question it.

The Jedi were approaching. More than one.

xXx

Harlene sat cross-legged, back hunched and head bowed. One hand rested by her side. The other clenched and unclenched around the handle of her katana.

xXx

Maul managed to stand, though his back was hunched. His hand gripped the fabric of his tunic around his wound.

_There is no pain where strength lies._

_Harlene, what are they doing to you?_

A fresh flood of fear. Now he could almost stand upright.

The door hissed open. Four Jedi entered; a dark-skinned Human, a pale-skinned Zabrak, the Kiffar, and a small, green, wizened alien.

Maul knew who that small, green alien was. Supposedly he was the most powerful of the Jedi in the galaxy.

Without a second thought, Maul took a step forward.

"Where is she?" he grated out.

xXx

Harlene squeezed her eyelids to the point of pain. Her knuckles popped from gripping her sword so tightly.

xXx

Closer.

"Where is she!"

xXx

Obsidian eyes opened wide…

xXx

"Where is Harlene Balla—"

xXx

…then narrowed. And  _burned_.

xXx

The mental attack was so sudden, he couldn't stop the scream. He didn't feel his body crash to the floor. He was falling…falling…so deep…so dark…deeper…darker…

He didn't feel it stop. Nor did he feel the gentle fingers at his temples or the hand that ripped away his bandages and pressed against his wound. The darkness was swirling, as if it wanted to devour him and cleanse him at the same time. It took forever to clear. When his mind and body reconnected, he found himself shivering on a hard floor. His arms automatically pushed himself up and he quickly noticed two things: he was at the Works, not the Jedi Temple, and his chest no longer hurt.

Maul looked down. The wound was gone. He ripped open the front of his tunic, but found no trace of the burning hole. Realization dawned on him as he heard a distant ping-ping-ping noise up ahead. He slowly looked up feeling something close to dread.

She was standing over fifty feet away, but he could clearly make out the look of blank shock on her face.

And the crimson-stained blade she held in her limp right hand that was creating a small puddle by her feet.

Panting, Maul looked down at his healed chest again, then back up. Incredulity flooded.

"Harlene…?"

xXx

She felt numb, but feeling returned when she heard the stunned confusion and gratitude in his voice as he said her name and all but gaped at her. It was a feeling of cold rage.

Harlene's eyes became slits. She turned around, and began to walk away.

"NO! WAIT!"

I want to leave here, she demanded of the interface.

"STOP!"

Are you certain you wish to—

Yes!

"DON'T!"

Her body disintegrated. But not before she felt something crash into her back. A pair of arms grabbed her torso, nearly breaking her ribs.

_"Please…"_

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

" **From what you saw, do believe that she accepted Nick's advances partly due to spite?"**

" **From a logical standpoint—no. Who is there to spite? Maul doesn't know, and she has no intention of informing him. From an emotional standpoint—hell, no. She's not the kind of person. Still…she read** _ **Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor**_ **, didn't she?"**

" **Of course."**

" **Then…shit."**

" **It's for the best. I never wanted her with Nick anyway. Not permanently."**

" **I take it that means you aren't throwing Maul to the wolves?"**

" **If you recall, it was Harlene who threw him to the wolves."**

" **And then snatched him back just as their jaws kissed his flesh."**

" **Maul passed one of my tests, though he doesn't know it. Had he committed suicide after she left him, then he wouldn't have been of any use. But now I know that she needs to forgive him."**

" **So do I."**

" **I'm taking another trip to Washington in two days. Can't let your info go to waste after all. Don't contact me unless it's an emergency."**

" **Very well."**

xXx

There was only one unofficial rule that all members of Squad Kemp followed as seriously as the official ones: when you felt hot breath sting the back of your neck, you were marked, and you were resigned.

Kemp was known to take a member of his squad "to the side" from time to time. When that happened, said squad member's teammates should not except to make any form of contact with their comrade for at least a week. Oh, they eventually returned all right, fed, hydrated, and looking as if they just endured all of WWII in under five minutes. The poor soul never responded to his or her friends' interrogations, but they never lasted long anyway. Members of Squad Kemp preferred to do as they were told, and pray to Christ that they would never be next. No one would save them.

No one.

And now Trent Carlyle was a marked man.

He kept on walking with flawless posture, but it was impossible not to grimace. Kemp was literally breathing down the back of his neck. His survival instincts screamed 'danger!' and 'enemy!'. They wanted his hand to grasp the gun at his hip, spin around, and…

Survival instincts. Animal instincts. He wasn't an animal. He was human. Kemp's breath was the box of pain that Trent's hand was in, and Kemp himself was the gom jabbar. Reaching for his gun would mean withdrawing his hand from the box of pain, and the gom jabbar would strike, killing him instantly. And he would die an animal, not a human.

Never.

Trent kept walking, not looking at anyone or anything. When they reached the elevator, no one said a word. As the squad mounted the lift, Trent moved forward, daring to hope for the briefest of moments…

"Carlyle."

_Don't let him see your disappointment. Go down with pride. You're a solider of the Congress of Aryan Alliances._

Trent turned around, snapping to attention. "Sir."

Kemp's baby-face peered down at him. Trent didn't hear the elevator move. His comrades were still standing right behind him.

"Come with me," Kemp said at, and turned around.

Trent closed his eyes, opened them, and followed. He was deaf to the whispers of sympathy behind him that faded once the elevator door closed. Kemp didn't say anything as they walked, and Trent was wise enough to not ask any questions. Instead he kept his focus on outwardly appearing as if he was following the directions of a superior officer rather than walking the green mile.

_Don't let your hands shake, don't let your hands shake. His eyes are like fucking scanners. He misses nothing. For the love of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph_ do not let your hands shake.

He wasn't surprised when they ended up in a deserted dimly lit room, but it still caused a fresh curdle of dread. When the door closed, Kemp stood with his back to Trent, hands on his hips, head slowly turning in every direction.

_Maybe he doesn't like the decorating_  Trent thought. His mind gave a half-mad giggle.

Finally, Kemp sat down. His expression was calm, which made him look almost innocent. Trent stood at attention, determined to take the scrutiny.

It lasted for almost half an hour. By the time it was over, a faint sheen of sweat shone on Trent's forehead, but he had only breathed and blinked under the torture. Kemp had remained a statue the entire time.

"Why are you standing there so long?" he said at last. Smiling, he patted the chair beside him. "You look exhausted. Take a seat."

Trent obeyed and forced himself to meet Kemp's eyes. The sadist was still smiling.

"Are you a traitor?"

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"No, sir."

"Are you a tapeworm?"

That threw him completely off-guard for a moment. He shoved down the enormous 'what the fuck?' that exploded in his mind and answered.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't understand."

Kemp leaned forward. "Tapeworms burrow in the rectums of their victims where they suck up nutrients. If they suck up enough they can grow up to forty meters long and make you ill. But they can't kill their victim, can they?"

"I wouldn't know, sir."

"You should. You are a tapeworm. You and every one of your useless little friends."

Trent showed no reaction. Kemp went on.

"You squirm and you writhe in the rectum of Rebecca Fries and her shitblood underlings. You can suck up all the nutrients you want, and then attack shitblood rectum after shitblood rectum. You may eventually reach forty meters, but you're still a worm. The Golden Aryans will stand on the free land in the end, and you will be a fat worm bloated on nigger, kike and faggot alike."

Now Trent had no idea if that was just mindfuckery or if Kemp was really saying that Trent and his fellow soldiers would be put to death because they were being trained-on orders from the Grand Dragons themselves-by shitbloods.

It was mindfuckery. It had to be. The Grand Dragons may be insane fanatics, but they would never put so many purebloods to death for using shitbloods to kill shitbloods.

Kemp stood up.

"Follow me, Carlyle."

_Not a day ago you called them my brothers and sisters. You told me not to waste my time cursing them. No you're saying we're tainted and will be put to death like animals._

Mindfuckery. Mindfuckery.

They exited the room. Trent kept his eyes glued to Kemp's back. It was the reason why he didn't see the lieutenant give a subtle signal with his right hand.

Then everything went black.

When he awoke, he was stunned to discover that he wasn't restrained to anything. Apart from being a little disoriented, he felt fine. When the dizziness cleared, he found he was lying slumped on a comfortable couch; the only piece of furniture in the otherwise barren room.

Kemp was sitting right beside him, sipping what appeared to be a chocolate shake.

"Did you grow any longer while you napped?"

Before Trent could even think of replying, Kemp held out the cup.

"You need nutrients. Take a sip."

He stared at the liquid through the plastic. It was brown. Very, very brown. And it wasn't smooth. Chunks of something of varying shades of brown were visible.

_(burrow burrow burrow in the rectums of the shitbloods soak up nutrients)_

A horrible beyond  _disgusting_  thought entered Trent's mind. No. Not even Kemp would…he could never…

The lieutenant turned to face him. Baby round eyes narrowed.

"Take a sip,  _tapeworm."_

Reaching out with a shaking hand, Trent took the cup. It was ice cold and damp. His eyes flickered to his right and saw that Kemp was staring at him. His last hope was ruthlessly crushed when he saw the straw was as clear as polished glass. There was no escape.

Heart thundering, bile searing his throat, Trent parted his lips and closed them around the straw.

_(tapeworm tapeworm suck it up suck it up suck it all up)_

He squeezed his eyes shut, closed his mind, and took a sip.

He gagged almost immediately when his taste buds were assaulted not by a wretched, fecal taste, but a cloyingly sweet one consisting of rich chocolate, banana and strawberries. Swallowing, he compressed his mouth and willed himself not to cough.

"I'll have that back now."

Trent didn't look at Kemp so the fucking bastard wouldn't see the tears in his eyes as he struggled against the biological reflex. He heard Kemp sipping the shake.

"You don't like Chocolate Split Supreme?" Sip. Sip. "Oh, yes. In a moment of generosity, I forgot. You're a tapeworm, Carlyle. I should have offered you some nutrients you can actually metabolize." Sip…sip…sip. "The color is pretty close. It's the mixture that's all wrong." Sip. Sip.

Sip.

It took five minutes for Trent to regain himself. It probably would have taken shorter if Kemp's goddamn sipping didn't grate like sandpaper against his eardrums.

_Fuck with me, fuck with me. Is that what this is all about! Do you just like FUCKING AROUND WITH ALL OF US!_

"How embarrassed are you?"

Kemp's tone was conversational and curious. Forcing himself to meet the lieutenant's eyes, Trent arranged his features in what he prayed was a casual expression. But the amusement and pleasure he was met with told him he had only embarrassed himself further by trying.

"Do you feel so embarrassed you want to just…be put out of your misery?"

Breathe in. Breathe out.

"No, sir."

Kemp nodded. "Have you ever been that embarrassed?"

There were times when it had felt pretty damned close, but not quite. But he didn't say that. He just repeated his last answer.

"Do you believe it's possible to feel so embarrassed?"

"Yes, sir."

Kemp nodded again before pointing at the gray wall in front of them. "Watch."

Trent obeyed, but the wall remained a wall. He frowned. What the fuck was this sick sadist up to…?

The wall shimmered, and Trent had just enough time to think the word 'hologram' before the wall melted away to reveal a large glass window that led into another room. Another room that contained one of the most bizarre sights he had ever seen in his life.

It was arranged like the set of a play, complete with rows of seats and a stage. The seats were filled with young white women that had four things in common: they were attractive, perfectly made up, dressed in the skimpy metal bikini outfit that Princess Leia wore in Return of the Jedi, and staring at the display on the stage with varying degrees of amusement, disgust, hatred, and bloodlust. Said display was a plump, middle-aged man…no, shitblood of either Hispanic or Middle Eastern origin. He was bare-ass naked and restrained to a rack in an eagle position. Actually, he wasn't technically naked thanks to the virtual helmet on his scalp. His mouth was gagged, but he wasn't blind-folded. Even behind glass several yards away, Trent could see his eyes. They were murky, and filled with an almost child-like terror and embarrassment. He struggled every now and then, but it only caused his body to jiggle, making the audience giggle and jeer in response.

"I don't consider myself a history lover, but there are times when I just can't resist," Kemp said, smiling at the display before him. "Pushing fifty, but never married. Not even a girlfriend. Incredibly shy around the fairer sex. Always blushes beet-red whenever Princess Leia shows up on the screen flashing her assets." He lifted his comm to his mouth and said, "Now."

Two of the women, a curvaceous brunette and a willowy blonde, mounted the stage and took a place on either side of their victim, who was now sweating profusely and curling his fingers and toes until they turned white. The women were smiling cruelly and began to caress his greasy chest. The blonde's free hand lingered dangerously close to his flaccid genitals and made caressing motions, but she never touched them.

Even though he couldn't hear the laughter or taunts, Trent's mood lifted somewhat as he watched the shitblood squirm. He nearly laughed when his dick and balls began jiggling in perfect rhythm with the rolls of fat on his thighs and belly. The women's hands lingered down his chest, over the protruding gut and suddenly began gently poking his lower abdomen.

"Oh, and did I mention a bed-wetting problem that was supposedly rectified at the age of sixteen?" Kemp mused.

The shitblood's eyes were rolling in his head as the women poked his belly and around his groin area. His chest jutted out while the rest of his body writhed. Trent mentally timed him. He held out for little more than ten seconds.

The disgust of the audience now far outweighed their amusement. They were all on their feet, shouting, pointing, and making a show of holding their breaths. Tears were flowing freely down the poor shitblood's face. The brunette beside him hit a switch and he collapsed on the floor. She and the blonde shrieked in outrage and jumped back so the splash wouldn't hit them. He wasn't restrained anymore, but he made no move to get up. His body trembled in his own mess. Trent couldn't see his face because of the angle and the virtual helmet, but he knew the shitblood was sobbing through the gag.

"Bravo, little ones," Kemp said into his comm. The wall hologram shimmered over the glass as he turned to face Trent. "You enjoyed that didn't you?"

Trent didn't think it would be wise to smile, but he let the lieutenant see his satisfaction when he nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Are you a traitor?"

"No, sir."

"Your word is one of the few things in this filth-ridden universe that I can trust, yes?"

Warning made his gut churn, but there was only one answer he could give.

"Yes, sir."

Kemp nodded. He lifted his comm to his mouth and said, "Enter."

Two fully armored Aryan soldiers burst through the door. Trent felt only weary resignation when they opened fired, and was not the least bit surprised when he awoke strapped to a cot with Kemp's baby face peering down at him.

"Can I trust your word?"

He was thirsty, helpless and scared shitless, but he knew what he was: a soldier of the Congress of Aryan Alliances.

"Yes, sir," he rasped.

A virtual helmet was lowered over his head and hooked up to a monitor. Trent stared frantically at the technician, then at Kemp who grinned.

"Enjoy your nutrients, tapeworm."

Trent saw the technician hit a switch before he was plunged into hell.

Embarrassment. Embarrassment. God, he was so fucking  _embarrassed._  His heart threatened to burst in his chest, his face was burning so fucking badly, his eyes were rolling in the back of his head. Oh, Christ. Oh, Jesus Christ, he couldn't  _move._  His  _body_ burned. His  _mind_ burned. And they were all seeing him. Their eyes made him burn. God, his  _own eyes_  made him burn, and he couldn't shut them no matter how hard he tried. Slowly, he cooked…burn…burn…burn…

When it was over, Trent heard someone sobbing. It only took a second to realize it was him.

"Un-strap him."

To Trent's battered senses, the sound of Velcro ripping apart may as well have been fingernails against a chalkboard. The paralysis was gone now. Over come with terror, he scrambled off the cot. He would have run, but his legs gave way. The 'thump' of his knees hitting the floor was immediately followed by a high-pitched laugh.

"I think that's all the verdict I need."

Trent grabbed his throat and held his breath. He would…not…vomit…

"You enjoy your nutrients, tapeworm?"

"What…the..uck…you do to me?" He tried to scream, but it only came out a pathetic, raspy whisper. "Son of a—"

"You just did your duty, Carlyle," Kemp said severely. "You fulfilled the purpose that everyone in this world has."

Struggling to calm his harsh breathing, Trent looked up at Kemp, not caring that his cheeks were smeared with tears. "Why me?" he snarled. "Why not another shitblood?"

"Because your word is one of the only things in the universe that I can trust."

With a smirk, Kemp left. Trent hung his head and gripped the fabric of his shirt over his heart. Now he knew where Kemp took his comrades. This explained why they acted they way they did afterward. Trent had heard rumors that recently developed technology allowed one to harvest emotions from brainwaves and transfer them to another person. Apparently, not only were they one-hundred percent accurate, but the Congress of Aryan Alliances was making good use of it.

And using its own members as guinea pigs.

"Motherfucker…" Trent muttered. "Motherfucker, I'll fucking kill you…"

That was probably the most wishful of wishful thinking, but it made him feel somewhat better. He struggled to his feet and rode out a wave of vertigo before heading for the exit. Fucking Christ, he felt like shit. And he also…

Trent stopped in his tracks when he realized something: he didn't want to be seen. No. He  _couldn't_  be seen by anyone. The thought was unbearable. The remnants of the burning was in the back of his mind, ready and waiting. All it would take was another person's eyes on him, and he would feel the paralysis—feel utterly helpless against the pressure building up in his heart. Despair swamping him, he once again fell to the ground in a heap. Like a tapeworm.

A dirty, wet, pathetic,  _expendable_ tapeworm.

How could he ever show his face again? He wouldn't be able to do it without dying. He should just lay here, curled up in a fetal position and wait to die. He had outlived his usefulness. Death was all he had left.

A sound up ahead. A door opening. Footsteps. No. No one could see him. They couldn't look at him. He didn't have the strength. Please,  _please…_

"Stop whimpering, little boy. I'm not interested in you." Brief pause. "Yet."

Trent froze. He knew that voice. And like every loyal self-respecting member of the CAA, he loathed it with a passion. But he loathed the owner of it so much more. It was the reason he was able to lift his head barely enough to see a woman with dark brown hair that fell nearly to her waist. She was facing the computer, so he could only see her back. She spent a few moments typing before extracting something from the hard drive. Then she turned around and made for the door. Trent's jaw clenched when he saw her razor sharp features and steel gray eyes.

Iron Hand.

Iron Hand was probably the most enigmatic of the Virus Creed. For one thing, she was only one who never revealed her real name. Then again, who knew if the names of the Virus Creed were their birth names? All of them could be aliases for all he knew. Still, Iron Hand never bothered with a normal name. She seemed perfectly content to be referred to by the retarded X-Men/superhero name that she and all of the Virus Creed donned. Her age was a mystery too. Physically, she looked between mid-twenties, early thirties, but one would only be guessing. Trent knew only three real things about her. One, she was a brilliant computer scientist (all of the viruses at her creed's and the CAA's disposal were her brain children). Two, she always wore a look that plainly stated she hated the world and everything in it. And three, her existence was an even greater sin against the CAA than any shitblood alive.

She, a woman whose bloodline was of the purest Caucasian, had chosen to kneel at the feet of the impure and serve their every whim.

Not that any CAA member had her family records. They only had the word of Rebecca Fries. But a few other members of the Virus Creed appeared white on the outside. She could have easily claimed all of them were race traitors. And Fries wasn't the type to lie about race. She was proud of her dirty blood.

Trent kept still as Iron hand drew closer. Even if he were at his peak, he wouldn't ever be stupid enough to try and take her on. Another CAA member would have at least cussed her out, but Trent took pride in his pragmatism. He was already on his way to a lengthy recovery, and Iron would make sure it was at least doubled if he provoked her. Still, it enraged and embarrassed him to no end that in his present condition, her footsteps made him want to clamp his hands over his ears and curl into a fetal position.

Embarrassment. Embarrassment. No, he couldn't feel more embarrassed. Whatever was still in him was feeding on that. Couldn't feed it. Had to starve it. It would consume him if he gave in.

His internal struggle was interrupted when a foot inserted itself under his stomach and kicked him on his back. He caught a glimpse of Iron Hand's hawk-like face before shielding his eyes.

_Embarrassment. Embarrassment. Embarrassment._

"No…" he groaned.

A pair of inhumanely strong hands pried his arms apart with little effort. Trent squeezed his eyes shut. Muffled curses, pleas and threats escaping his mouth.

"You're the Carlyle kid," Iron Hand mused.

She lifted him in his arms, ignoring his struggles. Panic flooded him when she deposited him on the cot and began to strap him down.

"No—no!"

"Stop struggling."

"Fuck you!"

She pinned his legs. He aimed a punch at her, but she grabbed his arm and slammed it down. Her free hand gripped throat.

"Stop—struggling."

"Try it," he snarled as best he could through a locked throat. "You'll never get away—"

"Oh, yes I will," Iron Hand whispered. "We both know that."

She stretched his left arm out and strapped it down. She did the same with the other, rendering him completely helpless. He tried to at least glare at her, have her see his hatred, but it was impossible. He twisted his face to the side, cheek pressed against icy metal, eyes squeezed shut. He fought off yet another wave of—

NO!

He heard Iron Hand move away from him. Daring to open one eye, he saw that she was at the computer. A bright blue light flashed over his head, causing him to shut his eyes again. When he reopened them, Iron Hand was standing over him.

"You're a lucky bastard," she remarked. "The last one was almost a vegetable when I examined her."

Before he could reply, she lifted his shirt up all the way to his armpits and began probing his chest and abdomen. His anger at the violation made him throw caution to the wind.

"You feel like a fucking zombie," he spat with extra venom to make up for his current inability to make eye contact. "I'd rather have a shitblood grope me."

"Like my mistress?" Iron Hand replied. "She would grope you, but trust me: she wouldn't use her hands."

Trent was no masochist, but he knew what Fries was capable of. The idea only strengthened his infatuation with her, even though his fantasies weren't filled with pain.

At least not with him on the receiving end of it.

"What the hell are you doing anyway?" He demanded of Iron Hand at last.

"Your only concern is to be a good little guinea pig."

"You just stole something from an Alliance hard drive."

"Point being?"

"They'll kill you."

Iron Hand laughed. "Real brains. They're so hard to come by here."

"They'll kill you, you traitorous dyke-bitch. They'll—"

"First thing," Iron Hand whispered as she gripped his throat. "You can comment on my sexual preferences  _only_   _after_  you carve out Riley Baxter's vagina with a clothes hanger instead of giving her pity looks after she ogles Plasma Flash. Second, you were just laid out all nice and trussed up by your bosses for  _me._  If you're so retarded that you can't see that, then it's obvious you didn't escape the military from your latest raid; they must have let you go." She laughed again and shook her head. "Of course they let you go. They had everything they needed. Maybe they're as retarded as you."

She laughed again before releasing his throat and undoing his bonds. "Believe me, it's beyond tempting to leave you like this, but your bosses would be angry. That is, they'd be angry if you pissed yourself and shorted something out. I don't think I could hold back if they interrupted me while I was working on a project, even though they've inspired this latest one. Thank them for me, will you?"

With great effort, Trent sat up and gripped his head when the world went spiraling out of control.

"You  _are_  very lucky." Iron Hand's voice came from a distance. "Your bosses don't have the slightest clue at how much a human mind can handle an onslaught of a particular emotion that's not their own without dying or becoming a vegetable. I intend to find out, but I'm also curious as to how many of you will be doing a disappearing act before I get the results."

"They'll never let you—"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, wake up," Iron Hand snarled. "They left everything for me on this disk and you know it. They left you for me and you know it. They know I'm up to something and that they're the cause for my inspiration. You think they'll be able to resist ego stroking and probable access to a future weapon? Fuck no!" Her shout echoed through the room. When it faded, her voice grew cold and bitter. "Why am I wasting my breath? You know...and you don't care. But you—you're stronger than most of them. This won't be your last session. Count on that."

He heard her walk away and allowed his body to slump down. She could be partially right for a few hours. He could hate Kemp and the entire Alliance for a little while. But nothing would ever destroy his allegiance to the white race.

Nothing.

Nothing.

He could hate them for a while. Then his hatred would be directed to where it really belonged: Her. Her and the traitors, and the shitbloods, and all the filth that plagued the Aryan race. But as he lay there in a shivering, broken heap he could hate them.

Just for a little while.

xXx

"Ah, Ethan. Come on in. I'm assuming the latest experiment was a success?"

"It was." Sip.

"You used another member of your infected squad?"

"Yep. Trent Carlyle." Sip, sip.

"Carlyle. That name sounds familiar."

"His parents are veterans of the Atlanta Massacre of '36."

"I'm sorry. Did I ask you about his family history?"

"No, Lord Dragon."

"Don't you ever waste our time again, Lieutenant!"

"Yes, Lady Dragon." Sip.

"Now, now. We can forgive Ethan. This time. But I'm giving you a fair warning, Lieutenant: If I step outside and hear something crunch underneath my shoe, I want to lift it and not see a rainbow faggot flag. Do I make myself clear?"

Sip. "Perfectly."

"Can we still trust you?"

"Lord, Lady…" sip. "You can always trust me."

"Good, because I'm trusting you with a very complex plan. If all goes well, not only will Virtech be under Aryan control, but we'll have purged our currently tainted ranks."

"They need to be purged now!"

"Not yet, Lady Dragon."

"Fuck you, you infant faced son of a bitch! Do you have any idea what it's like for me! The scent… _wafts_  through the halls, through all the nooks and crannies! It imbeds itself in everything. I can feel it in my skin. I can feel it in my bed sheets. Nigger and kike and wop and…and…all of it!  _Everything!_  We need to purge our ranks  _now!"_

Sip. "Lady Dragon, do you know how rare pure untainted Aryans are?"

"Yes!"

"Then I have complete faith that you can withstand any odor, no matter how offensive, for the sake of preserving the human race." Sip.

"THROW THAT GODDAMN MILKSHAKE OUT NOW!"

"My apologies."

xXx

Blue-gray eyes scanned the memorandum with critical scrutiny. After several long moments that weren't without tension, the eyes rose above the datapad to meet golden brown.

"You're suspicious," Claire Selton said.

"This target is considerably more valuable than the one before." The President's tone was completely unapologetic. "If we stop something like this, they're going to suspect."

"Will you take action?"

"I think I'll pretend you didn't ask that," was the ice-cold reply. "Tell me why now."

"It's quite simple. They should have suspected something after the last attack. However, Daemon has recently informed me that while the Grand Dragons are furious, there are no suspicions apart from the usual ones. My best guess is that the CAA has been expecting a quick, devastating betrayal for so long, it's taking them a bit of time to consider that they might be in for a more gradual one."

The President surveyed the young woman before him with intense wariness. "And you claim that you want them to suspect something to stir up paranoia within the organization."

"That's putting it vaguely. I want some of their high-ranking officials discredited and or killed at the very least. But first they need to know I have a spy in the Virus Creed and experience how much trouble said spy can cause them."

"And after they know you have a spy?"

"This has been confirmed by Daemon: when the Grand Dragons are really, really pissed off at someone, they send their most ruthless, capable agents after them. But they may as well be sending a worm after a hawk. It's a win-win situation. Either the Virus Creed kills the CAA agents or the Grand Dragons have them offed for failing."

"If Rebecca Fries suspects Daemon, though, she'll die."

"Daemon is more than aware of the risks she's taking. But she's extremely valuable to the Virus Creed. Unless Fries has hard evidence against her, she'll risk keeping her around."

"So, Daemon's life and usefulness as a spy is completely dependent on your opinion of her value to the Virus Creed."

"If you want to put it so cynically. But I prefer 'theory' to 'opinion'."

The President stared at her.

"You don't trust me." It wasn't a question.

"If I didn't trust you, you would be awaiting trial for treason right now, Agent Selton," the President said. "I do trust you. But I'm wary. Very, very wary."

"I understand."

"You said there was something else you wanted to discuss."

"Yes. I don't believe the Error Correctors are being put to good use."

"In what sense?"

"We were created to manage the realities, but we have always been a part of the American military. We now hold an official rank. The people are aware of our existence. The nation is at war, and every soldier has been called into service. You know very well we could do more than just correct errors."

"I am aware of that."

"And?"

"Agent Selton…" The President paused, choosing his words carefully. "Your service is invaluable to the American people, and you are official members of the military. That being said—"

"—we can't serve our country to the extent of our abilities."

"The Error Correctors are unrivalled virtual warriors, but none of you has gone through real military training that can prepare you for real combat."

"You know very well our education isn't limited to manipulating the Interface. Our bodies and minds are honed to lethal degrees. We have extensively studied not only military history and tactics, but political science as well."

"I'm not saying you haven't."

"And I'm not saying we're flawless super gods, nor am I suggesting that you put all fifty of us on the front of the lines right away. What I'm saying is that if you let us, we'll all go through the training and indoctrination processes that are required to become real combat soldiers. You trusted us enough to give us real military ranks. Will you trust us to earn them?"

The President sighed heavily. "Agent Selton…I'm afraid it's not that simple."

Cold understanding dawned in the young woman's eyes. "Of course."

"I personally believe there's a lot you could do if given the opportunity, but I can't just snap my fingers and give it to you. Half of you are still adolescents. If we let you out on the fields, it would be a violation of a countless number of laws."

"I say this without the slightest bit of hyperbole: what we have gone through in our realities would reduce many soldiers comatose."

"Agent—"

"I'm not blaming you, Mr. President. It's common knowledge how steeped into tradition the military is. How many years did it take for them to let blacks serve? How about women? Gays? Even after Barack Obama took office, it was two years before he could work through congress enough to repeal "Don't Ask, Don't Tell". How radical must it seem to suggest that they should enlist soldiers who aren't even old enough to drive yet?" Her eyes hardened. "Except that they are. I've calculated the differences in time passage between the realities and the real world. My apprentice is the youngest in our creed, and she's been alive for eighteen years."

"Your argument isn't without logic, but I fear too many will see it as a mere technicality. I'm sorry. I will discuss it with the Joint Chiefs, the DOD, and the Senate Defense committee, but I advise you not to expect anything."

"We could do so much more… _be_  so much to our country. Right now we're little more than mercenaries."

"I know."

"We could turn the tide."

"I know."

Claire Selton nodded. "We need to do this. I know in my heart that we will eventually. And I also know, beyond any doubt, that it will come at a devastating price."

xXx

The White House. The President of the United State's home. Anyone who lived in it had all of their needs catered to around the clock. The service was unsurpassed. The luxury unrivalled. Everything was soft and clean and glowed with a pure, comforting light.

And Harlene Ballantine sat on a couch in a guest room, eyes focused on the page of the book she was holding but not reading, in complete apathy to her surroundings.

Of course that didn't mean she wasn't alert.

"You heard me come in, didn't you?"

"Yep," she responded monotonously without looking up.

Claire took a step closer. "What are you reading?"

" _Dune."_

"Are you enjoying it?"

"In a sense. Frank Herbert's writing is mediocre at best. Its difficult for me to care about the characters. But I'm starting to believe his real genius lies in the way he designs cultures, and portrays the reality of religion, politics and ecosystem."

"You're right. Frank Herbert is unrivalled when it comes to those three subjects."

"If that's the case, I'll be reading the entire series."

"Just one thing Harlene."

"Yeah?"

"Don't approach the ones written by Brian Herbert and Kevin J. Anderson even if you have a two by four handy."

"How bad are we talking?"

"Karen Traviss and Stephanie Meyer bad."

"Duly noted."

There was a long silence.

"Your eyes aren't moving," Claire pointed out at last.

No answer.

"How long have you been staring at the page?"

Harlene's mouth tightened, but she gave no reply. Claire took another step closer.

"The President didn't ask me to bring you here, you know. I asked you to come because I thought this atmosphere would be good for you."

Harlene finally looked up with an astonished expression. "You knew he would let us stay here?"

"I wasn't absolutely certain. But he's a very logical man. I'm an Error Corrector of the United States of America, and I'm the only one who has access to the only spy in the Virus Creed. My purpose for coming here was to give information that could tip the scale greatly in our favor. The security here is second to none, and we're only staying two nights."

"Or maybe he's trying to bribe us."

Harlene's voice was only half serious. Claire smiled at her. "Our President is Jon Stewart, apprentice, not George W. Bush."

"Too true."

Harlene returned her gaze to her book, but her eyes remained locked on the spot she had been staring at for so long. Claire sighed.

"Harlene, I've respected your need for solitude, but we can't put this off any longer."

Harlene didn't look at her. "I appreciate your concern, but this is something I need to get over in my own time and my own terms."

There was a pause. Harlene heard two striding steps taken toward her before  _Dune_  was roughly yanked out of her hands.

"HEY!"

Harlene was on her feet in an instant, enraged. She tried to grab the book, but Claire tossed it aside and grabbed Harlene's wrists.

"What you  _need,"_  her mentor said in a low, deadly voice, "is to become aware of the terrible mistake you're making, what it's costing you, what it  _very nearly_  cost you, and what it  _will_  cost you if you don't  _PULL YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR ASS!"_

Harlene just stood there, frozen; stunned. Claire almost never shouted. In fact, Harlene couldn't remember the last time she had. But what made it worse was that the shout was followed by a deeply disappointed glare.

"Claire…?"

Her mentor's face softened a bit, and the grip on Harlene's wrists loosened. "I'm doing this for you. I'm doing this because I can't stand by and watch while you throw away something that I know is still so very precious to you. Harlene, if you were going to leave him for trying to own you, or his disregard for life, or his attitude, or what you would suffer if you were ever completely at his mercy, you would have my unwavering support. But if you leave him over this, you will regret it forever."

Harlene stared at her, wide-eyed, breathing elevated. Claire released her and gave her some space by moving back a bit.

"Now tell me in your own words: what did he do to you?"

Harlene had convinced herself that her pain was slowly being eased by the knowledge that she had made the right decision…the  _only_  decision she could make if she valued her self-respect and human rights. But at Claire's question, it felt as if the arteries surrounding her heart had morphed into icy vines and were slowly strangling her.

"I trusted him," she bit out through a shaking jaw. "I trusted him. He promised me—"

"What did he promise you exactly?"

"That he'd never take advantage of me!" she cried.

"And how did he violate that promise?"

"I didn't know his horns were erogenous zones, and he let me touch them. I performed a sexual act with him without even  _knowing it!"_

She shouted the last two words, but Claire was unfazed.

"I know you performed a sexual act with him without knowing it," she said quietly. "But why are so hell-bent on believing he knew it too?"

Harlene was dumbstruck. Then she was furious.

"Hell-bent on believing…he  _knew!_  He knew his horns are erogenous zones and he still—"

"I'm not denying he knew what his horns are. That is, I'm not denying he knew the official definition. But I'm certain the official definition was all he was truly allowed to know."

"What are you talking about?"

"Harlene, you're developing into a woman. You're becoming aware of your sexuality, and you're exploring it at your own pace. But even before that you lived in an environment that encouraged sexual awareness. You could question the people in your life without fear of being shamed or humiliated. You were educated in sexual propriety and how to make responsible choices without denying your urges." Claire put her face close to Harlene's. "Now compare that environment to the one Maul grew up in."

Harlene flinched back and dropped her gaze from Claire's. Her anger abated somewhat as her mind pondered a response.

Maul had been raised as a weapon, yet he wasn't ignorant about sex. And there was only one person who could have educated him on such a subject.

Harlene grimaced. The thought of Sidious teaching anyone about sex was both amusing and disturbing, but she wondered how he had done it. Did he ever talk to Maul about sex? Have him do research? Obviously he rectified Maul's ignorance for a purpose. Maybe in case he had to send him on a mission that required him to go undercover…

An image of Maul suddenly flashed in Harlene's mind. Not his face, but his tattoos.

And she realized how utterly stupid she was being.

What the hell was she doing, thinking of Maul like he was an  _agent_  of Sidious? He was a weapon; honed, crafted, broken down and rebuilt until he shone with ruthless perfection. He was a weapon—but an expendable weapon.

An expendable weapon to a sadistic Sith Master who thrived on the pain of others, be it physical or emotional.

Maul's sexual education could have been just another mind game. It could have been a painful and humiliating experience for him. Then again, Maul hadn't been at all reluctant to admit his attraction to Harlene so he probably wasn't traumatized in that area.

Then she remembered what Dooku had told her about Zabraks. How the main purpose of their extraordinary willpower was to control their sexual urges. Of course Sidious would know—and it would undoubtedly have amused him. What if he just gave Maul as vague an education as he could, and when Maul's urges grew stronger, he could just sit back and watch the fireworks as Maul was tormented by his own body…

"Harlene?"

And his environment…

Slowly, Harlene met Claire's eyes.

"I can't," she whispered.

"You can't what?"

"I can't compare our environments. There is no comparison."

"And?"

_(It is your youth and naiveté that blinds you)_

Harlene's face hardened. "The environment he grew up in was anything but nurturing, but he knew enough. More than enough. If he didn't know about his horns I could forgive him, but not only did he know he let me touch him all on his own free will."

"I'm not trying to get you to condone him, Harlene, I'm trying to help you understand what you already know. And I know you know because it's one of the reasons why your hatred for the Jedi is so strong."

"What the hell do the Jedi have to do with this?" Harlene demanded.

"Look closely at their rationality for certain training methods," Claire said. "In their iron-clad belief that exposure to negative emotions could cause someone to permanently fall to the dark side, they sought to purge themselves of the instincts nature gave them and replace them with peaceful, serene Jedi instincts. But you know better. The Jedi weren't training themselves to be peaceful or serene, they were training themselves to be sociopaths. You can't replace natural instincts. Oh, you can bury them enough so that your conscious mind doesn't notice them, but if you deny an intrinsic part of yourself, if you bury it instead of coexisting with it, then it starves. It starves in the deepest parts of your soul and slowly changes from something natural into something mean, ugly, and very twisted. Enough so that it can make someone do things they wouldn't normally do—or want things they wouldn't normally want."

"That's right, but…" Harlene looked away, the sharply turned back to Claire. "You think Sidious made Maul bury his sexuality?"

"I certainly wouldn't put it past him," her mentor bitterly replied. "But if he had, I think Maul's advances toward you would have been more awkward and aggressive."

Harlene frowned. "Then what was the point of that Jedi speech?"

"Maul may not have been taught to suppress his sexuality, but he never became truly aware of it until you came into his life. Becoming aware of an instinct that has lain dormant for so long can often have the same consequences as burying it, especially if the mind is already unstable."

"Oh, yeah,  _that's_  not condoning him," Harlene said with vicious sarcasm.

"Harlene—"

"Claire, just drop it. I'm  _not_ going back to him."

Claire's eyes narrowed. "You really haven't been paying attention to anything I've said, have you?"

"Why the fuck should I? We both know what he did, we both know there's no excuse, and you keep acting like he was so completely naïve—"

"He  _is_ completely naïve, Harlene!" Claire snapped.

"NO! He knew about his horns! He manipulated  _my_  ignorance! He wanted me to touch him-!"

"—without being aware of what he was really letting you DO!" Claire bellowed. "Wake up, Harlene! Knowing sexual facts is pointless if you aren't taught how to  _deal with sexual encounters._  Did Maul want you to touch him? Of course he fucking did! He's attracted to you, for Christ's sake! But when you offered to touch him, do you think he was thinking 'let her arouse me, she'll never know' or 'I want this, but I don't know how'?"

Harlene stared at Claire, breathing elevated, and emotions running high…but unable to answer.

"We don't know exactly how he was taught," Claire said in a much calmer tone. "There could be truth in all of the possibilities we explored. But he is completely naïve, Harlene."

Harlene bit her lip, and turned away, fists clenched. "I'm  _not_ weak," she spat. "I'm not going to be like those gutless cunts in romance novels  _and_  real life that make excuses for men out of so-called compassion."

"Those 'gutless cunts' condone the actions of their lovers, apprentice. But condoning and forgiving are entirely different things." Brief pause. "You know he's going to die if you don't go back, and it won't be an easy death. So now all you have to do is decide if your pride is worth his life."

xXx

It was nearly midnight at the Error Corrector Academy, but the building's occupants were often prone to late nights, even before the war with the CAA had begun. Jacob Ryan was no exception. He was alone in the sitting room he had settled in, a beer in one hand, the Old Testament in another. Just as he was staring to get immersed, a knock sounded at the door.

Jacob blew out a breath of annoyance, but said, "Yeah, come in."

The door slide open, and his irritation vanished instantly.

"Harlene? When did you get back?"

"Just now," she said. "Can I come in?"

"Sure," Jacob said, putting down his book without a second thought. As Harlene took the seat beside him, he sent a silent prayer of thanks to God. Harlene had been very distant with all of them over the past couple of weeks. Maybe now she was staring to get over what that miserable bastard had done to her.

He waited as she stared at her hands which were gripping her knees. When she spoke, her voice was remarkably clear.

"Jacob, I need to talk to you."

If she sounded any less serious he would have made a lame crack about calling him master shrink number one. Instead he responded, "What do you want to talk about?"

Harlene met his eyes.

"Male sexuality."

Jacob gaped.

"Uh…"

When Harlene's expression didn't so much as flicker, Jacob carefully reached for his beer and glanced at the label.

_Don't worry, Rolling Rock. We can pull through this together._

He took a very slow, very cautious sip and calmly asked, "What do you wanna know?"

"Something hypothetical, but also very personal. What do you think would have happened to you if you grew up in an environment where you weren't free to embrace your sexual nature?"

Jacob was astonished. Not just at her question, but her almost desperate tone, as if it were a matter of life and death that she get the answer. What she was asking was incredibly personal (not that he minded) but why the hell would she need to know…

A dark scowl clouded his face. "Harlene, is this about that horny motherfucker?"

She winced. "Jacob—"

"You're not thinking of going back to him are you?"

"Jacob—"

"Goddammit, Harlene!" He slammed the beer can down and leaped to his feet, looming over her. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been about you these past couple of weeks? You move through the halls like the Grim Reaper, but you give off this aura that screams "I'm a ticking time bomb. Press me and I will instantly vaporize", so we all walk on fine needles when we talk to you. And who's to blame? That miserable…horny…mother—"

"SHUT UP!" Harlene shouted. "Jacob, this is something I need to know for  _me._  I wouldn't be asking otherwise. Now will you tell me or not?"

They stared at each, panting, eyes burning. Finally Jacob released a ragged sigh and sat back down.  _God have mercy on my soul_. "Okay, okay." His voice was muffled through his hands as he rubbed his face. He took another swing of beer before answering the question in six words.

"I would be a fucking pervert."

Harlene blinked. "What?"

"You heard me." Jacob leaned back in his chair, swishing the remaining contents of the can around. "Being a guy can really suck a lot of times. Yeah, I know being a girl can really suck too, but since we're on the subject of guys…" he shook his head. "I'm still a teenager, but I've been one for a few years. When I started to become one, I knew pretty much everything there was to know about sex, and I was really curious. Exploring and researching helped a great deal since it sometimes felt like I was in a permanent hard-on state. Let me tell you, testosterone ain't an easy thing to live with. But I was free. Free to explore, to ask questions, and to have fun when I wanted to."

"Maul never had any freedom," Harlene whispered.

Jacob grunted in response and took a drink. He hated that horny motherfucker, but now that he thought of what he must have gone through-granted Jacob didn't have the slightest clue what Zabrak puberty was like—it was difficult not to feel a trace of pity.

"Yeah, well…" he muttered.

Harlene looked at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "But when you put it like that, I should be grateful he didn't try to rape me."

"Correction,  _he_  should be grateful he didn't try to rape you," Jacob said with a wry smirk. "But I'm just speaking for me. I can't speak for everybody. Thank God," he added bitterly.

"What do you think was going through his mind when I offered to touch him?"

"Damn it, Harlene, what did I just say?"

"Look, just give me your best guess okay?"

Yeah, he could give her his best guess, but doing that required him to put himself in Maul's position which was a nauseating thought. He met Harlene's eyes, saw the plea in them, and nearly groaned.

_The things I do for love._

"He could have felt any number of things. Things that would be difficult to sort out. Sometimes it just hits you, and you feel frozen. Not certain how to react. It can be exciting, but also terrifying if you don't know what to expect. How you react depends on a lot. On what your body tells you, your mind, your heart. Sometimes you try to listen to one, or two or all three. And sometimes you act on one what without knowing which one you're really acting on."

Harlene stared at him. "Jacob. What exactly are you saying?"

_Yes, listen to the babbling Irish Jew, baby sis. He'll always make coherent sense and he'll always make your troubles go away._

Jacob gave a frustrated sigh and rubbed his eyes. "Look all I'm saying is…if I had been raised as a weapon all my life, discouraged from embracing who I was and was all of a sudden offered to be touched by a…beautiful girl that I admired and respected I know…I  _know_  I wouldn't have been able to resist." When he saw Harlene's reaction, he hastily added, "But that doesn't make it right! I still would have taken advantage of you, and it would have been wrong. It's like what Batman said; it's not who you are underneath, but what you do that defines you."

Harlene didn't reply. She was staring at a spot on the floor with such a burning intensity that Jacob half-expected it to start smoking at any second.

"Hey…Harlene? You all right?"

At first he thought she was still lost in her own world. But at his inquiry, she turned to look at him.

"Thank you, Jacob."

She stood up and left. He didn't stop her.

xXx

Twenty minutes after her talk with Jacob, Harlene found herself leaning against the wall of a hallway that lead to her room. She had wanted to go there and think, but the storm brewing in her mind became too much.

Maul had promised he would never take advantage of her.

_And he meant it._

He let her touch his horns without informing her they were erogenous zones.

_How could someone so naïve understand that even a simple, seemingly innocent touch can cause such strong reactions?_

_(Harlene, I'm not exactly a saint, y'know?)_

All those times she had stood up for him…all those times…

_What are you really punishing him for?_

Dooku. Vergere. Her fellow Error Correctors. That CAA preacher.

Realization dawned coupled with a flood of horror, and she ran in the other direction.

_I let them all get to me._

She got to a Star Wars virtual module, and stripped off her outer clothing.

_My pride._

Donning the sensory suit, she jacked in.

_My stupid, fucking pride._

Harlene breathed again when she saw the bubble was still intact. The sun was setting, bathing the abandoned factory buildings in blood red light. Harlene scanned the area with her comm, though it was mostly an excuse to break the deafening silence.

Maul was still alive.

And an entire month had passed since she had left him, running and begging for her to stay.

_Bubbles can be fickle._

Harlene vanished her comm, and teleported into the factory.

The first thing she noticed was the horrible smell of burned metal, stone, and oil combined with rotting fuel. Then she noticed the scorch marks on the walls; thin, but deep and black. The tell-tale marks of a lightsaber. But some of them weren't so black. Some held a silver gleam. Melted metal. Harlene looked down. More melted metal haphazardly littered around. Twisted. Deformed. Scorched wires and circuitry. The floor beneath them bore the same black-silver scars as the wall.

But this wasn't the room Maul was in.

Slowly, heart pounding with dread, worry and guilt, Harlene walked through the doorway into the training room, which was in far worse state than the one she had just been in.

He was standing by the open viewport, his back to her. Even if he had been wearing his tunic, she would have noticed he had lost weight. His shoulders were hunched, and his head was bowed. But Harlene's attention was immediately occupied by the only movement he was making. His right arm was slightly extended at his side, and his hand was moving up and down, like it was touching something. Caressing something.

Harlene nearly broke down then and there, but she fought the onslaught of her emotions, not with her barriers, but with willpower she had never known before.

_It's not about me. It never was._

She teleported beside him. He continued to stare out the window. Harlene gently laid her hand on the one that was moving. It was freezing cold. It continued to move, and for a moment, she was terrified she was too late. Then it slowed as a thin needle of light seemed to pierce through dead, haunted eyes.

His hand stopped moving altogether. His lips parted, and his eyes began to widen at an excruciatingly slow pace.

"Are you there?"

_Don't cry. Don't cry. It's not about you. Don't cry._

Harlene squeezed his hand, and made sure her voice was low and clear when she spoke.

"I'm here."

His fingers tightened so much she thought he would break her hand. Before she could even think of saying or doing anything else, Darth Maul let go of her and dropped to his knees, head bowed, hands on the floor.

"What do you want of me?"

xXx

It didn't matter. He had no pride left to destroy, no purpose he could pretend to have. And why delay the inevitable? He always knew she would be better than him someday. Maybe she already was.

Maybe she always had been.

And him…she was right. He was nothing, but he still meant something to her. He knew he did. If the only existence he could have was solely through her, he would pay any price to have it.

On his knees, mental agony amplified a hundred-fold by the hope surging through his system, Maul braced himself for pain, insults, demands. He didn't hear the soft rustle of movement, but he did feel one achingly warm hand rest tenderly on his naked shoulder, and the other on his face. Was it further punishment? Did she intend to destroy his last shred of sanity by taunting him with salvation she would never give?

The hand on his face moved under his chin and applied gentle pressure. She wanted him to look at her. Numbly, he obeyed. The expectation that he would be met with a harsh, unforgiving expression was so strong that he couldn't mask his reaction when he found himself staring into soft, kind eyes.

And a gently smiling mouth.

Beyond any shame, Darth Maul gaped.

"Harlene? You—"

"Shhhh," she whispered, shaking her head and placing two soft fingers on his lips. "You don't have to talk." She kept shaking her head as her hands engulfed the sides of his face. "You don't have to say anything," she continued in a cracked, but fervent voice. "Not now."

She pulled him in a firm embrace, pressing her face against his neck. It took minutes for her warmth to melt the state of shock that froze both his body and mind. But when it did, he was unguarded against wave after wave of pure, crippling, blistering hot  _relief._ He seized her in his arms, and she became his anchor against those waves. And the terror. And the state of near-insanity he had fought against over what seemed like centuries. She was back. All on her own free will. She was  _back._

At first Maul doubted he would ever release her, but after riding most of the waves out, clarity returned. And he remembered. He had betrayed her. Lied to her. Dishonored her. Could he ever atone for such a sin? Could she really truly forgive him?

Reluctance nearly making him tremble, Maul drew back, but didn't let go. She didn't let go either. He gently wrapped his hands around her upper arms and drew them both to their feet. Those gloriously warm hands were still caressing his skin. Her face still wore that soft

_(compassionate)_

Look.

Maul's grip tightened on her arms. He was desperate to apologize, but he was even more desperate to make her know that he would never…if he had known what such a touch would really entail…

"Harlene, I swear to you, on the  _Force,_  on your  _God,_  I never intended to—"

"I know," she cut him off firmly. "I know you didn't." Her hand rested on his cheek. "I forgive you. And my promise remains: I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying. Forever."

For the longest time, Maul just stared at her. As his fingertips slowly ghosted over her face he noticed it was bathed in shadows, and her eyes were filled with stars. Night had fallen.

It was time for her to leave.

His panic must have shown on his face for she said in a reassuring tone, "I can stay tonight. You don't have to be alone."

Perhaps so much relief in such a short amount of time was starting to affect his brain's ability to process information since the next few moments passed in a haze. He vaguely remembered embracing Harlene tightly again, and then leading her to the rooms that had been transformed into living quarters. Now she was standing in the open doorway of one, staring at him, her eyes worried and uncertain. Maul opened his mouth to tell that that his quarters were right down the hallway if she needed anything…but his jaw froze when he realized he wanted to say, no,  _ask_  something entirely different. Something that made him realize he wasn't beyond shame after all.

Maul looked down, panting slightly, then back at Harlene. He stared into those worried, compassionate eyes, felt a surge of nearly overwhelming hatred and abruptly walked away.

xXx

A minute after the door hissed shut in front of her, Harlene half fell toward the cot and collapsed on it, burying her face in her hands, gasping, but she didn't cry. If she did it would be for herself, and right now she was completely irrelevant. After regaining some control she raised her comm to her face.

"Claire?" she whispered.

" **I'm here, Harlene."**

"Claire…" Harlene swallowed. "Can I have an extension on my vacation?"

Brief pause. " **Yes, but only a very short one. I'll call you when you need to come back."**

Harlene squeezed her eyes shut and reopened them. "Thank you."

" **Are you all right?"**

Long pause.

"I've done something horrible, Claire."

" **Is it irreversible?"**

"…no. I don't think it is."

" **Then do what you must to make it right."**

Claire hung up, and Harlene stared at the device hanging limply from her hand, then at the doorway. She was emotionally exhausted with guilt, sorrow and self-loathing. However, this odd, new strength, this self-awareness continued to course through her, preventing her emotions from plunging her into a state of depression or sense of worthlessness.

Harlene narrowed her eyes at the Claire was right. It wasn't too late. She could fix this.

xXx

The hatred didn't last long. What had he felt hatred for exactly? Probably himself. Not that it mattered. He could no longer focus his hatred, and the Force eluded him. But it gave Maul the strength to leave Harlene where she was, go to his quarters, shower (technically; he had merely let the hot water run over him), throw on a pair of trousers, and drag himself over to his cot. After collapsing on it, he buried his face in his hands in a vain effort to fight against his feverish, panicking mind, his frozen aching skin and the whispers of punishment drawing out, and taunting touches, all a deception, such clever vengeance, make him believe give him his hearts' desire, hold it over his head, then grin cruelly mockingly, and wrench it away…

His shoulder ached again. He was leaning against the door. Cell door. She's on the other side. Cannot give in. Can't afford to disgust her. Have already disgusted myself. Do not leave me. Be strong endure. I will do anything, anything you ask. There is no pain where strength lies. Just let me stay beside you. I will always be Sith. Stay with me. There is no pain where strength lies. Stay with me there is no pain where strength lies stay with me there is no pain pain pain pain stay pain pain pain pain stay stay STAY STAY STAY STAY

"Maul?"

He whirled around. She was standing by his cot looking nervous. Her foot shifted forward, but she didn't take a step toward him. Instead she sat down. When her hand touched the mattress the cot transformed into a comfortable-looking bed large enough for two people.

She didn't speak, but her eyes as well as the way she was sitting couldn't have portrayed her intention more clearly.

Maul blinked. This couldn't be real. He couldn't have regained her trust that quickly. Forgiveness was one thing, but trust? After he had violated her honor?

Despite his intense skepticism, his feet carried him to the other side of the bed. Harlene shifted beneath the blankets, smiled, and held out her arms.

"Come here."

The hatred again. For himself. For wanting things no Sith could possibly want.

But…if he hated something strongly enough…even if it was just himself…he could still be Sith, albeit a flawed one. And he could still serve a master. Obey a master. Bow before a master.

Accept warmth and mercy from a master.

He drew back the covers and went under them, into Harlene's arms. She gently guided him towards her. Maul buried his face on her breastbone and fisted her hair in his hands. His last conscious thought before succumbing to exhaustion was that he was never wearing his gloves again.

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

" **It worked?"**

" **It worked."**

" **If that's the case, I should ask if she's okay."**

" **If I could access the bubble, I would have more to go on. Right now I have only her words, and her tone of voice. But they told me that no permanent damage has been done, and she's learned her lesson. Well. Half of it."**

" **Half?"**

" **Yes. If she had learned it completely, she wouldn't have called me so soon. She would have spent the next few hours sobbing her eyes out."**

" **Yeah. I understand. But it's very unfortunate for our friends on the Council. Once she does learn her lesson, her hatred for them will reach its peak if it hasn't already."**

" **Too true."**

" **Did you convince the president of our plan?"**

" **I think the fact that I'm talking to you from my room and not a prison cell is answer enough."**

" **Good. It may be too much to hope, but keep your fingers crossed that they'll try to go after me personally."**

" **Unfortunately, that is too much to hope. Don't pout, it's unbecoming of you. I can guarantee that they'll go after you indirectly. Be prepared. But remember what I said: no generals. Lieutenants, soldiers, fine. But no generals. Is that clear?"**

" **Crystal as a Meyerpire. Crystal as a Meyerpire."**

**xXx**

Harlene hadn't planned on falling asleep. Her intention had been to hold Maul and watch over him the entire night. She was well aware of his nightmares, even though he hadn't outright admitted to having them, and after everything that happened…all she had done…she was still preparing herself for the worst.

She hadn't meant to fall asleep, and certainly didn't remember doing so. However, the surprise she felt upon awakening was burned away by the presence of the sleeping boy in her arms.

Harlene tilted her head down. The room they were in possessed the same eerie red lights that lined the walls of the rest of the factory, so she could see him well enough. Her eyes lingered on the jagged black patterns and whorls along his arm and shoulder before he disappeared beneath the blanket. As far as she could tell, he hadn't moved at all. His body was still pressed firmly against hers, his face buried on her chest. His arms engulfed her back, and though he wasn't pulling her hair, she could feel that his grip on it had barely loosened. In any other situation, she may have found being in such a position for a prolonged amount of time a bit confining and uncomfortable. But this was no ordinary situation. Harlene reveled in every sensation from the now very warm skin of his bare back beneath her hands, to the slow, deep breaths that easily penetrated the thin material of her shirt. She sensed from the Interface that it was early morning, but as far as she could tell, Maul had no intention of waking up any time soon. Not that she wanted him to. She would bet her life that she could count the number of hours he'd slept during the time she was gone on one hand. If he had even slept at all.

Harlene ignored yet another stab of guilt. She would deal with her emotions  _and_  examine her failings later. Now wasn't the time.

She relaxed her head against the pillow and closed her eyes. Terrible as she felt, Maul's warmth helped to lull her mind to a state of near-sleep. A couple of hours later, she was jolted out of it when she felt him stir, and then abruptly jerk out of her arms.

"Maul." She grabbed his elbow, gently, but firmly. "Maul stop. It's okay." Her free hand touched the side of his face. "It's okay."

He froze in mid-struggle. His breathing was slightly labored as he stared at her with wide eyes that were still Sith-yellow, but filled with a terror and vulnerability so unbecoming of a Sith. She did her best to ignore how gaunt his face was, and willed him to focus on her.

"It's all right," she whispered, stroking his face and arm. "Everything's going to be okay."

Confusion flickered in his gaze, as if he wasn't quite sure what that meant. At the same time, he seemed to be drinking in her words like they were the only water in the universe. He gripped her arm, halting her hand's movement. It was almost painful, but she didn't rebuke him.

"You came back."

He didn't sound like he was trying to make himself believe it. She could tell he did believe it beyond any doubt. His tone, like his words, was exactly the same as in the dream they had both shared: He expected to be abandoned forever and couldn't understand why she didn't.

"Yeah," she said softly even as she battled the tears once again. "I think…I always meant to."

It wasn't a lie. Even if Claire had never spoken to her, her ambivalence would have eventually grown too strong. She would have come back, but it would have been later. Much later. And she forced herself not to think about the state Maul would have been reduced to.

_It's not about you._

Maul looked astonished at her reply, and Harlene suddenly saw her own guilt mirrored in his eyes. He shrugged the blanket off and got to his knees, silently asking her to do the same by putting his hands on her upper arms. Maul stared down at her, keeping his grip on her arms. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes were burning with guilt, desperation, self-loathing…and…

…remorse.

Harlene was stunned. She had never seen him visibly express that particular emotion, even after he apologized for grabbing her during their first trip to Korriban. But now there it was, plain as day.

"I should have expressed my abhorrence and regret for my actions to you yesterday rather than pathetically attempting to justify them," he said. "That is yet another thing I must beg your forgiveness for."

"Maul—"

"Please." His voice was still hoarse, but the determination in it alone was enough to silence her. "I must speak."

She wanted to tell him again that it was all right, that there was no way he could have known, and that she should be the one to apologize. But in order for her to say those things without causing further damage, she needed to fully understand how he viewed the situation in his own words. So she nodded once at him.

"I committed an unforgivable betrayal against you," he said. "In general your trust in me has never been absolute—but you trusted in my honor. Completely. And in return, I defiled yours. I have no excuse, and offer no justification." His face inched closer to hers, and the heat of his gaze made her draw back. "I have no right to know how you can forgive such a transgression, but I will do anything to earn it, to atone for what I have done. _Anything._  To that I swear on the Force—and your god."

xXx

Harlene's face was unreadable when Maul fell silent. He held his breath, and struggled against tightening his grip on her arms as the seconds seemed to stretch into hours.

He was surprised when her first two responses to his apology and promise were to smile, and then laugh lightly.

"Well, you always were a boy of few words."

Any other time, he would have bristled at her calling him a boy. Right now, all he cared about was if she believed him to be sincere or not.

Her hands came up to clasps his arms. "I believe you," she said, as if reading his thoughts. "I know how sorry you are. I can see it plain as day. But Maul…" He felt a tremor go through her. "The truth is you didn't betray my trust, and you didn't defile my honor. I thought you did, but later I realized…I was deluding myself."

Every time he thought he had resigned himself to the fact that this girl always did exactly the opposite of what he expected, she still managed to exceed his expectations of extremity.

There was a paradox in there somewhere, but he would contemplate it at a later time.

"Harlene, what are you-?"

"You tried to tell me last night, and I didn't let you finish. So I'm giving you the chance to give a complete answer: did you know how you would react if I touched your horns?"

Maul's grip tightened unconsciously.

"No."

Harlene smiled. "Then there's no reason for me to blame you. Or for you to blame yourself."

Was he actually hearing this? "Harlene, I betrayed you. I desire you, and I desired you to touch me. I did not inform you of the level of intimacy we were engaging in—"

"Maul, have you ever had a sexual experience before? Before that one, I mean."

"You  _cannot_ excuse me—"

"I wouldn't dare. Now, please answer the question."

"…I have felt urges before, but I never attempted to act on them. Before you, that is."

"Or explore them? Contemplate them?"

"No."

Her eyes were soft. "Then how  _could_  you have known?"

Even after he became aware of his desire for Harlene, he hadn't given a second thought to his lack of sexual experience. The research Lord Sidious had him do during his early adolescence had been informing enough.

Or so he thought.

Nothing he read had mentioned the strength and the  _feeling_  of a sexual reaction. Nothing he read had described such reactions in any form. Not even a minor sensation let alone the sheer emotional and physical rush. The language of his research had been purely academic.

Realization dawned on him.

_Naïveté. She is forgiving me because of my naïveté._

Granted it was the only way she could have forgiven him, but that didn't make the humiliation any less cutting. Naïveté was a shameful thing. Even though it was the reason he forgave Harlene for her hero-worship of the Jedi, it still disgusted him beyond belief.

"Maul…" Her hand rested on his cheek. "Those…things that I said to you before I left…" She winced, and then smiled ironically. "God, I can't even think about what I said without wincing. None of it held even a grain of truth in it. None of it. You didn't betray me, you sure as hell don't belong in the same category as the pedophiles of Ybor, and you are most definitely not nothing."

Maul only truly heard the last one. He spent several moments replaying those words in his mind before responding.

"I am not blameless. My desire for you is a hunger unlike anything I have ever experienced, and in my arrogance, I believed myself capable of controlling what I felt. But even before you…touched me, there were some instances…" He broke her gaze, clenching his teeth together. "…and yet I still ignored them."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, Maul," Harlene said very matter-of-factly. "You are still the most arrogant ass I have ever had the privilege of meeting throughout my entire fucking life. But the point is, you still had no idea what you were really getting into. So you didn't betray me. Hey." Her voice sharpened, and she took his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her. "You. Did.  _Not._  Betray. Me. You didn't. Do you still believe you did?"

He opened his mouth, but his voice eluded him. Harlene sighed and lowered her hands.

"Not as strongly as you did before," she said. "But still…" She sighed again. "I can't blame you."

_Because I am naïve._

The shame in his guts turned darker. She was back-and he couldn't even begin to describe how desperate he was to believe she was back forever—but a considerable amount of the respect she once had for him was now but a memory. That was his punishment. That was the price to be paid. It was more than worth it, but he still wanted it back with such ferocity that even he surprised himself. She was his master now, and Lord Sidious's good opinion of him had always been vital. But Harlene…Harlene was…

"You should," he hissed. "You must. I  _did_  deceive you. Do you not understand? I hid my reaction to your touch, and I was fully prepared to keep you ignorant!"

"Why is that?"

Of course she knew why, but he would hide no longer. "Cowardice. That is why. I am a coward and a liar. I feared your abandonment, so I spat on my promise to you."

"Maul, you have every right in the goddamn universe to fear my abandonment," she insisted. "I mean if I were torn away from everything I ever knew, and was dumped in a vacant bubble with you as my only companion, I would fight tooth and nail to make sure you never left me. Your reasons for lying were more than understandable. And that's why I'm able to forgive you."

He knew he should just accept her mercy and move on, but his mind was still searching for a way to counter her argument. There was something she blamed him for. There had to be—

A loud sigh broke into his thoughts. "Maul, what is it already?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Don't play stupid with me," she snapped. "For some reason, you're hell-bent on making me believe that there's something I should hate you for. Why? We both know you didn't mean for me to arouse you, and you lied to me because you were afraid of me leaving you. Why shouldn't I forgive you? What else is there?"

He couldn't tell her. She had already seen him at his lowest. He was sick with humiliation, and the knowledge that she was forgiving him because he was weak was unbearable. Lord Sidious's forgiveness only came after the punishments. After Maul used his strength and endurance to survive the consequences of his failures, and emerge all the more powerful.

"Maul?"

She didn't respect him anymore, and he found he craved her respect almost as much as he craved her company. He had to get it back. There had to be some way to show her he was still strong.

"I cannot express how grateful I am for your forgiveness," he chose to reply. "But I have still done nothing to earn it."

"In cases where the reasons for your actions were due to things beyond your control, you don't have to do anything to earn it."

He drank in her smile. It dulled the agony her words brought. That she was with him because he was weak. And as he stared at her, as he focused on the warmth of her touch, he couldn't bring himself to care. He embraced her and lost himself. He could earn her respect later. For the time being he could savor this.

xXx

As usual, Harlene continued to hold him until he chose to pull away.

"Do you wish to train for a while?"

She inwardly sighed with relief. It was a very good sign that he was willing to fall into an old routine so quickly. "Yeah, sure," she replied. Then she remembered something. "But…"

Confusion flickered in his eyes. It was immediately replaced by mortification. Harlene caught his arm when he tried to move away.

"Maul, it's okay. It's all right," she said when he still refused to look at her. "I can take care of it in a few seconds. In fact I'll go ahead and do that. In the meantime, you need to eat something."

He was breathing harshly, and it looked like his jaw was ready to snap. His gaze locked with hers for only a brief second, but it was enough for her to see the self-loathing and embarrassment in it.

"Maul, it's nothing that can't be taken care of," she said softly, putting a hand on his face. "Please. Eat something and then meet me in the training room."

He closed his eyes and gripped her arm. Harlene remained silent as he struggled to control himself. When he finally looked at her, his face was unusually blank.

"Very well. I will meet you in fifteen minutes."

Harlene forced her own face into a calm expression before getting up from the bed and shape-shifting her clothes. She stopped in front of the door and looked back with a mischievous smirk.

"I'll make you sweat this time."

A spark kindled in his eyes. It was a trademark of his old arrogance, but this time it wasn't nearly as infuriating.

"Is that a challenge?"

She grinned. "It's a fact."

Before he could reply, she phased right through the door, teleported to the training room and made it neat and spotless in five seconds. Much as she felt she deserved punishment for what she had done, she couldn't bear to look at what Maul had gone through over the past month. And what went around came around. Her due would arrive soon. She was sure of that. Letting out a breath, she tossed her cloak aside and began to go through a warm-up kata with her katana.

Unfortunately, it soon became apparent that the adrenaline rush wouldn't help ease the anxiety eating at her. Several times she had to stop herself from teleporting to where Maul was and checking up on him. Giving in to paranoia wouldn't make the situation any better. She would do better to count the blessings she had feared she wouldn't have: Maul was alive, his sanity wasn't gone, and he was uninjured. While Harlene's gratitude for the first two overshadowed her gratitude for the third, she still viewed it as a priceless miracle. She didn't know how many training droids he had destroyed

_(dissected)_

over the past several weeks since the bubble always regenerated them, but she did know they were always programmed to kill. And no matter how much the Sith liked to pretend otherwise, negative emotions didn't always lead to more power and focus. One wrong move and he could have been seriously hurt or killed.

Her psychic sense told her someone was watching. She stopped and faced Maul, who was standing in the doorway.

"Hey." She smiled and walked up to him. "Just warming up."

He looked at her katana. "Is that a cortosis blade?"

"No, but it can stand against a lightsaber just fine. Even a red one."

Maul didn't reply. He looked as if he were gathering his nerve for something. Before Harlene could ask any questions, he held out his hand. She blinked when she saw a lightsaber in it.

"Just as well, it would best if you had this."

Harlene's heart sank. "Maul, I already broke one. I can't even begin to imagine how much work goes into that. You don't have to give me another—"

"It is not another." His voice sharpened, but with desperation rather than anger. "It is yours, Harlene."

She was so stunned that she took it without thinking. Turning it over, she examined every inch of it.

Yes. It was the one he had given to her.

Harlene looked up, not bothering to mask her pain and incredulity.

"You fixed it?"

He gave a stiff nod, not quite meeting her eyes. "So long as the crystal remains undamaged, such a task is relatively uncomplicated."

Harlene looked down at the blade again, helpless against an emotional onslaught. She met Maul's eyes again only when she was certain hers were dry.

"Thank you."

He merely nodded again, but she could see how relieved he was.

For several more hours, Harlene could pretend that nothing horrible had ever happened between them, that things had always been this way. Maul moved with the same flawless grace and speed, and his gaze was sharp and determined as ever. Then again, nothing could hinder him in battle. Least of all a horrendous unjustified punishment, depression, and some loss of muscle mass.

It was over much too quickly. Soon enough, Harlene found herself staring out the viewport at the setting sun. Maul was right behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand caressing her face, hair and arm at different intervals. She had noticed before that he hadn't been wearing his gloves, which was a very good thing in her opinion. She personally wouldn't be able to stand wearing gloves for a prolonged period of time. Whenever she made physical contact with someone, she needed to feel it on her bare skin, however impersonal or platonic it was. She would go insane if she didn't feel it.

_It's the sense of touch…_

Harlene's left arm was wrapped around the one encircling her waist, hand resting on the one at her side. Her other hand slowly caressed a very smooth, lean cheek. She listened to Maul's slow breathing and felt its warmth on her neck.

None of them had spoken a word since they started training. Harlene didn't mind and she knew Maul didn't either. Right now they were both perfectly content with basking in the other's warmth and presence.

_I still have to talk to him and soon,_  she told herself.  _And I need to talk to Claire to make sure I'm not screwing up again._

"I could feel them in my mind."

Harlene nearly flinched.

"They were pushing through every defense, crumbling every stronghold as if it were nothing. Then they were ripping. I felt no physical pain, but they ripped. And they pushed. I could not even think of stopping them. It was as if I was being slowly torn away from myself, and a raging flood cleansing what little there was left…"

The arms around her were trembling slightly as was his voice. Harlene felt a violent chill go down her spine. He was talking about the mental attack…the  _mind rape_  the Jedi had subjected him to.

"…if they wanted the location of Lord Sidious, why would they try to destroy what they sought to find?"

It was almost a minute before Harlene could find her voice. "They weren't trying to find Sidious's location."

"Then what were they trying to find?"

"They weren't trying to find anything. They wanted…" she swallowed. "I'm sure you're…familiar with the story of Darth Revan."

His sharp intake of breath was answer enough, but she forced herself to continue. He deserved to know the full details of what had nearly been done to him.

"They were trying to purge your mind. Not just your memories, but your personality, your essence, your…soul." She bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. "They wanted to implant a new personality and new memories so you would believe you had been raised and trained as a Jedi your whole life."

She couldn't hear him breathe long enough to be genuinely alarmed. When he did again, it was deep and shuddering. His arms gripped her tightly and trembled worse than ever.

"You stopped them." His voice was harsh, but incredibly hoarse. "I owe you a debt I cannot ever hope to repay."

Harlene's throat tightened. "Maul…"

"You cannot deny this," he hissed with a fierceness she had never heard from him before. "I have already pledged myself to you, and now you hear my oath: whatever you wish of me, anything you wish of me—I am yours to command."

The tightness grew worse. Both in her throat and her heart.

The Jedi had nearly raped his mind. Murdered his soul. Exalted him from existence.

_And I…_

… _I nearly_ let them.

xXx

Maul told himself not to take offense if she dismissed him. As his master, she had every right to. But as long as they were together, he would deny her nothing.

He drew back from her neck in surprise when he felt her shaking rather violently. She wasn't speaking, but her breath was coming out in short, rapid gasps. Maul immediately whirled her around. He was about to demand if she was ill, but the words died on his lips when he saw her tears, her eyes…

…and the pain…the  _pain…_

"I'm sorry," she choked out. The apology was followed by a gut-wrenching sob. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so, so,  _so sorry…"_

Deeply confused and alarmed Maul said sharply, "Harlene, what is it? Are you ill? Are you-?"

"I  _knew!"_  she wailed. "I knew what they w-were going to do. I already had my p-powers long before…I should have gotten y-you out of there the second I…but I wanted…I wanted to hurt you…and when he told me what they…I still hesitated! I knew…I  _knew_ …"

Desperate to calm her down, Maul gripped her arms, willing her to focus on him. "Harlene you had every right to hesitate. I deceived you. I—"

"NO!" Her voice rose to a shriek that nearly overloaded his ears. Her own hands gripped his arms with crushing force. Her face was scarlet and the blood of her grief wouldn't stop flowing from her eyes. "NO! You don't touch the soul! You don't touch the divine! I don't care what you've done, how badly you've hurt, who you've killed! You DON'T—KILL—THE SOUL! I knew and I hesitated…you should have NEVER felt that…if had been just a second longer…not the soul, not the soul, OH, GOD, NOT THE SOUL!"

She fell to the ground on her knees, and then collapsed on her side. She curled up in a fetal position, arms gripping her body.

"FORGIVE ME!" Her screams shook the walls. "FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE ME! FORGIVE ME!"

Terror surpassing incredulity, Maul immediately went on the floor beside her. He gathered her in his arms, and pressed their foreheads together.

"Harlene…stop. You must stop! You will go mad!"

Her cries didn't dull. Nor did her incessant plea. The emotional strain was too much. He could feel it. It was threatening to burst his hearts.

Her pain…

…it was his too.

"Focus on me," he sharply commanded, gripping her body and reaching into the Force. "Harlene, you must focus on me. Feel our bond. We are both here. I can feel our bond. You can feel it too. Focus on me, now!"

For a long moment, he thought she was beyond hearing. No. He had to get her to stop. She couldn't take this much pain. She had to stop. He would do anything to make her stop.

"Focus! Feel our bond. Focus. You must focus!  _Focus…"_

He reached deeper into the Force. He had to get through whatever barrier was preventing him from feeling her completely. Some part of the Force had to exist in her dimension. Life couldn't exist without the Force. That was impossible. She had to feel the Force somewhere. Anywhere.

Her god. Perhaps it was in her god…

_Hear me!_  He sent the call out with all of his mental strength.  _Hear me! You must help her. She is loyal to you. You owe it to her. Help her. Help her. HELP HER!_

At first Maul thought he was imagining it, but he wasn't. She was beginning to grow quieter. One hand gripped his tunic, while the other clenched around his face.

"I am…here."

It sounded so strange to say that. And yet…

"Focus," he whispered, stroking her wet, fevered cheek. "Focus…focus…"

Slowly… slowly…her sobs died down. Maul continued to murmur encouragement to her while struggling to find their bond, and begging her god for mercy at the same time.

Hours may have passed. Or even days. He didn't know and he didn't care. Time meant nothing. Only one thing meant anything.

He listened to her breathe. Slow. Deep. In and out. He breathed with her. In and out. It was getting deeper. Her eyes were closed. Was she asleep? He gently lifted her head up.

"Harlene?"

Her eyes opened. They were bloodshot and exhausted. But then they blinked and were suddenly filled with recognition.

"Maul…?"

He let out a deep sigh, silently blessing the Force and Harlene's deity.

"You need not suffer any longer," he said. "I grant you forgiveness as you granted me."

Her face contorted, but her pain didn't frighten Maul this time. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, and she pressed her face to his neck. In turn, Maul held her close. He said nothing, knowing words were not necessary right now.

It wasn't long before she pulled away. She wiped her hand over her face, sighing deeply.

"Sorry about that bout of lunacy."

Maul's eyes narrowed in anger. "You dare dismiss what you just endured so casually? You nearly destroyed your own sanity!"

"I know it must have looked that way. It sure as hell felt like I would." She let out a hoarse, scratchy laugh. "And it would have been a lot worse if it weren't for you." She touched his cheek. "I'm so, so sorry, Maul. And…thank you."

There was deep affection in her gaze. And gratitude. Maul would have traded both for even a glimmer of respect in a heartbeat.

No, he told himself firmly. He would earn her respect again. He didn't want her to give it idly.

He took her hand in his. "Are you well now?"

She smiled sadly. "Yeah. I'm fine."

He gripped her hand and helped her up. He scanned her blotchy face, her bloodshot, haunted eyes and the hunch of her shoulders.

"Are you staying tonight?"

He asked the question as calmly as he could, ignoring the anxiety growing within him. He didn't let his relief show when she nodded, but he took in her state again.

"Are you hungry? Do you want a shower?"

The need that she accept at least one was nearly overwhelming. He was hers to command now, and the debt he owed her was boundless. He wanted to do something, give her something right now, even if it was as insignificant as food and a bath.

"A shower would be nice." She rubbed her temples. "But I don't think I could stand to eat anything right now."

He was very reluctant to part from her, and it pleased him that he could sense the same reluctance from her. When she teleported to her quarters, Maul went to the dining area. He made sure to consume twice the amount of nutrition he usually did. During the first few days of Harlene's absence, he had only eaten a few mouthfuls out of sheer necessity. It hadn't been long before hunger became nonexistent, but he made sure to swallow a nutrition capsule. Every now and then.

For the second time in the same day, he looked down at his slightly shrunken physique with deep disgust. It was a small wonder Harlene thought him weak.

_I will earn your respect again, my master. I swear it._

He showered quickly and sat on his cot (bed now, he reminded himself) to meditate. Eager as he was to return to Harlene, he didn't want to rush her as she refreshed herself. After all, he was the one who offered for her to do so in the first place.

_That, and you're not quite as afraid as you were before._

Maul bared his teeth.

"I trust I have provided you with sufficient entertainment over the past several weeks?"

_I took no pleasure in watching either of you suffer. But Harlene needed to confront her failings._

Maul's bellow of outrage got lodged in his throat when he heard a knocking at his door. He immediately lurched to his feet and opened it. Harlene was standing there, barefoot and dressed in the same sleepwear as last time. Maul was stunned and dismayed to see that she looked even worse. Her skin, while now devoid of redness, looked so sallow and translucent, he could clearly see her veins. Her eyes were red, puffy and exhausted. She looked as if it was taking all of her strength just to keep standing.

"Harlene?" He took her by the arms and pulled her inside. "What is it? If you are ill, then we must—"

She embraced him. Hard. As if she were terrified he would disappear at any moment.

It was an exhilarating experience being that he was the one who usually initiated physical contact between them first. But when he pulled her close to him, he could still feel great pain radiating off of her.

She had been lying. Her suffering had not ended.

Because she felt responsible for what the Jedi had nearly done to him?

He recalled what she had told him. They would have raped his mind. And then they would have implanted a new personality.

A  _Jedi_  personality.

Maul couldn't imagine a worse fate. He was still reeling from the rage, the indignation, the violation he felt when they ripped right into his mind. But Harlene had saved him. His personality was still intact. She had not failed. It didn't matter if she hesitated so long as she succeeded in her goal. He wanted to tell her so, but her emotions were frayed, and he would not risk her sanity. When she was calmer, he would make her understand.

They slept in the same position, only this time, Harlene didn't wait for him to settle in her arms. She gathered him against her almost desperately and held him tightly, her hands stroking his back and behind his neck every now and then.

Maul closed his eyes against the overwhelming, yet incredibly soothing sensations. Even before his first life ended, a small part of him had wondered for a while what it would be like to sleep beside her. Not that he ever would have. Watching her sleep was one thing. She belonged to him, and reveling in such an intoxicating sight was his right. She on the other hand had no right to see him in a vulnerable position.

But that was another life. A life that was over. She was his master now. If she decided to bestow the gift of reassurance on him by holding him while he slept, he would accept it. He was hers now. Forever.

Like before, he didn't remember falling asleep. But when he awoke the next morning, he realized that for the past two nights his nightmares had lessened enough so as not to disturb his slumber. He was still unused to sleeping next to another being, even one he trusted implicitly. Harlene had to calm him down again after he jerked out of her arms, but he had not screamed upon awakening nor had he attacked her, bless the Force. She couldn't know about his nightmares. They were an incredibly shameful weakness, and would ruin his future attempts to earn her respect.

They spent several hours training. It served to distract them both. Harlene's eyes still possessed that raw, haunted look, so he couldn't risk talking to her. But she was attentive and alert as ever while they sparred.

Then her comm rang. She took the call privately, and Maul's chest tightened upon seeing her face when she returned.

"Maul…I have to go for a little while."

_(hide terror hide rage calm nothing Master respect me for I am strong)_

"Hey…" She wrapped an arm around him, resting her other hand on his face. "Don't be afraid. I promised you, and I'm keeping that promise. I'll be back as soon as I can."

_Of course you say that. Because that is what children always want to hear, is it not?_

But he didn't say that. He merely tightened his grip on her, letting her warmth soak his bare hands.

Harlene sighed. "I know…I know it's going to be far from easy to forget those things I said to you…and abandoning you for a while…but still, haven't you figured out by now that I just can't stay away?"

An odd, sly twinkle kindled in her eyes, but Maul was far more distracted by her smile.

"I tried leaving you forever after Tatooine, but I found I couldn't. In fact, in tried leaving you several times before Tatooine, but I always kept coming back. I didn't know why. I didn't know how you of all people could have such a pull on me. But I wanted to stay, and I chose to stay. I don't need to know why."

Maul just stared at her, unable to speak. Her smile widened, and she pulled him in an embrace that lasted for a while. She backed away, but not before smiling, gently cupping his face and planting a soft kiss on his cheek. His grip on her loosened due to the shock of the new sensation, enabling her to step back.

"See you later," she whispered, and disappeared.

xXx

" **You're supposed to be watching the reality now, Harlene."**

"I know," Harlene replied through gritted teeth. "But you can still come here so long as no one sees you. Claire, please. I really need to talk to you face to face. I'll still be able to sense errors."

Her mentor sighed.  **"All right. I'll be there in a few minutes."**

Harlene paced back and forth in the empty hotel room the entire time. Every now and then, she put a hand to her mouth to keep from crying again. By the time Claire arrived, she had herself under control. Breathing deeply, Harlene turned to face her.

Claire slowly approached. Her face was filled with compassion and understanding.

Harlene broke down.

A pair of strong arms caught her before her knees hit the floor.

"Shhh. Shhh," Claire murmured, stroking her hair. "I know. I know."

When Harlene finally regained some control, Claire guided her to a couch. Harlene sat down and numbly stared at the carpet.

"I hate myself."

"Then you're reacting to your mistake in the worst way possible."

Harlene's head snapped to the right, furious. "Have  _you_  nearly cost someone their soul?"

"No. To nearly cost someone their soul, I would have to attempt to rape their mind. I haven't. Have you?"

Harlene bared her teeth. "You know what I'm talking about."

"Yes," Claire said seriously. "And I also know that you're experiencing the consequences of blowing things out of proportion again. I'm not absolving you," she insisted when Harlene was about to protest. "But the Jedi nearly cost Maul his soul. Not you. You're punishing yourself far too severely."

"I hesitated—"

"I'll say it again: I'm not absolving you. But unless you tried to rape his mind, you are not directly responsible."

"They were in his mind." Harlene's voice shook. "He told me how…they violated…Qui-Gon told me…I hesitated…if…just for one more second…Maul would be…"

"Your hatred of Maul was irrational, and it was great enough for you to not help him right away. But it wasn't great enough for you to abandon him. He felt the beginning stages of a mind rape, but you would have never let the Jedi go through with a complete one. Or did you think you were too late when you rescued him?"

Harlene closed her eyes. "No. I knew I wasn't too late."

"Then you wouldn't have hesitated for one more second."

"But they violated…his mind could have been permanently damaged…"

"Harlene," Claire said sharply. "You can't dwell on what could have happened. You'll go crazy if you do. Hey. Look at me!" When Harlene obeyed, Claire continued. "Accepting responsibility for real life consequences is one thing. Punishing yourself for hypothetical consequences is not only pointless, but self-damaging. You're wracked with a guilt that's as irrational as the hatred that caused you to hesitate in the first place. I raised you to learn from your mistakes, apprentice, not to let your emotions poison your judgment into making them again!"

"…Claire, I wish logic were enough. I'm trying. I really am—"

"I know. But you need to forgive yourself, or else it's going to continue to eat at you. You're too strong to let something like this ruin your life." Claire's voice softened. "Does Maul hold it against you?"

Harlene bit her lip. "He's…very grateful to me for saving him. When I told him I hesitated, he said he forgives me, but I doubt he ever thought about holding me accountable." She looked at her mentor. "He thinks I'm his master, Claire. He hasn't called me that outright, but the way he looks at me now…he said I'm his to command. And…he bowed to me."

"How does that make you feel, Harlene?"

_Like vomiting._  "No matter how benevolent I am in comparison to Sidious, Maul's mindset is that his master is supposed to dictate his actions and his feelings. So accepting that mantle is the worst thing I can do to him." She grimaced. "Well,  _one_  of the worst things."

" _Harlene."_

"I know, I know. Look, Claire I'll be honest: I feel like shit. Like utter shit. I listened to what you said, and I know what I have to do for myself, but I need to do it when I'm ready. I  _will_  do it when I'm ready."

Claire nodded. "I believe you. But do you know what you have to do for Maul? If he sees you as his master, then everything's changed."

"Yeah. I need to rip that delusion away as quickly as I can. He's not going to like it. In fact, he's going to fight it tooth and nail."

"Why do you think so? He'll still have you, even if you aren't his master."

Claire knew the answer, of course. She just wanted to make sure Harlene knew it also.

"Because having a master is part of his identity as a Sith, which is one of the few things of his past life he thinks he has left. He's becoming less and less Sith…hell, he never was Sith, but he needs to keep believing that he is, so he can feel safe. Protected. But letting him cling to his delusions is the opposite of protecting him, and even if it wasn't…" She shook her head. "Everyone needs help sometimes, but it's no use trying to protect or speak for other people. Not really. The only hope is to teach them to do it for themselves."

As she said the last two sentences, she knew avoiding having serious talks with Maul was over. The next time she saw him, she would start confronting him about his delusions without letting up, though he would be the one to choose how to respond to them. She would also be completely honest with him about her feelings, why she reacted so strongly upon finding out his horns were erogenous zones.

And her new attitude toward the Jedi.

Claire smiled. "You saw  _The Miracle Worker_?"

Harlene smiled back. "Yeah. Annie Sullivan was a very wise woman."

"Is there anything else you need to talk about?"

Her smile faded.

"Yes. Claire…I need to talk to you about the reality."

It was nearly fourteen hundred hours in the morning by the time Nick came home. He wasn't drop-dead exhausted thanks to his Korun heritage and to red-alert instincts honed from growing up in a war zone. Also his ability to draw on the Force for strength didn't hurt either. But still, he was really looking forward to at least seven hours of sleep. Or maybe six. Time was credits after all. The fact that he was coming home with a wallet that was slightly fatter than it was three days ago was proof enough of that. Tired as he was, he grinned as he slapped the bulge at his side.

But that was nothing compared to the grin he wore when he saw someone had beaten him home.

Harlene tossed aside the data book she was reading and leaped up from the couch. Nick caught her in his arms and kissed her eagerly. She responded, but it wasn't long before he noticed she felt very tense.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked. Concern flooded him when he took in her state. "Harlene—"

"I'm not going to pretend I'm fine." He blinked at the sharpness in her voice. "But I can't talk about it again right now. That's all I can say."

Any other time, Nick would have insisted. But seeing her look like she was using all of her will power to keep from shattering into a million pieces was more than enough for him to let it go for the time being.

"Okay," he said and stroked her jaw in a comforting manner. "So long as you're not telling me because you're afraid of burdening me."

She nodded and embraced him again. "I'm just glad to be with you."

Nick didn't feel tired anymore. His mind raced with what he could do to make her feel better. Maybe he didn't know what she was so devastated about, but he would be fragged if he pretended everything was all hunky dory.

"Hey," he said, trying to keep his voice casual. "What's say we blow this dump and head to Dexter's for a drink?"

She gave him a funny look. "It's fourteen hundred hours. And don't try to pretend you haven't been working the entire day. You look dead on your feet."

"Doesn't mean I want to sleep." At Harlene's completely unimpressed look, he added, "I'm starving, too. C'mon, Harlene. I did three shifts today. Don't I deserve just a teeny tiny bowl of soup?"

"Nick, even if your puppy eyes did work on me, I could still see right through your subterfuge."

Now it was Nick's turn to look unimpressed. Harlene sighed and shook her head.

"Lead the way."

"Woo-hoo!" He pumped his fist.

"Don't make me regret this," she cautioned as they headed out the door.

"Well, I haven't made you regret any of the dates we've been on so far," he pointed out, but then a slight sinking feeling entered his gut. "Have I?"

"No," she said quickly. "No, of course not. I've always had a great time. These past ten days…" Her gaze pierced his. "They've been wonderful."

Sometimes her 'intense stares' made her look creepy as hell. Other times, they made her already remarkable beauty appear inhuman, captivating Nick in a spell he never wanted to be released from.

"I'm glad," he whispered putting his arm around her shoulders. "I know it's not much, but—"

"Nick," she cut him off gently. "It's more than enough. And you know it."

He did. He had been confident enough to admit his feelings, and had felt an intense giddiness upon discovering they were reciprocated. But when he first took her out on a real date, his nerves had been on fire. Not a moment passed where he didn't wonder how the frag he could impress Harlene enough to make her want to stay with him. Miraculously, he hadn't made a fool of himself. Maybe the Force saved his ass, or maybe it was Harlene herself.

"You were home later than before, you know." Her voice broke into his thoughts.

"It was worth it. Ulmer said he'd give me fifty more if I stayed two hours longer to help him unload."

"Nothing illegal I hope?"

He laughed. "I made sure of that before I started workin' for him. Mace would skin me alive if I did anything to embarrass the Republic."

She frowned. "Just fifty? He's ripping you off."

"Tell me something I don't know. But it's part of the process. Doesn't mean I'm gonna let it go, of course. Maybe I'll shoot him in the back before we take off."

She stopped walking. "'We' take off?"

"Well, okay, I'm not saying that you're gonna leave your dimension and we'll go flyin' into the stars with little hearts streaming behind us (even though a guy can dream). But look…" He took her face in his hands. "We're not gonna stay in that crappy dump forever. If I keep at this for another year, we'll have a decent ship, and I'll have enough experience on my résumé for the big boys to hire me. I keep at that for a few years, then we'll have no one to answer to." He stroked her jaw. "It'll just be you and me."

Her eyes grew wary. "You seem to have everything figured out."

His smile faded. "No I…I'm not, y'know mapping out an entire future or anything. And I'd never put any plan into action without asking you first. It's just…" He let out a deep breath. "If we choose to, y'know, if this becomes long-term, I wanna show you that I can provide for you. For us."

"Nick, I'm not saying you can't make plans, that we can't make plans. Even with both the wars we're dealing with, we can't act like we'll never be able to have futures. Just…please don't get ahead of yourself."

There was something he really didn't like about the way she was looking at him. But he told himself she was just nervous about his expectations.

"Trust me, I've got no intention of doing that," he assured her. They began walking again. "We're soldiers. We've gotta live for the moment. But that doesn't mean we say 'frag responsibility'. Because the truth is…I'm glad that we didn't go further that night."

"Really?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I know it's pretty damn hard to believe being that I was all over you and all. But if we did it so soon after realizing we liked each other, then it would have been just to satisfy lust, and…we have something deeper than that."

Maybe it was presumptuous to say that, but it was true. What he really wanted was to tell her that their last ten days together were the best of his entire life, that his feelings for her were growing so fast he couldn't keep up. That when they were together, everything dark and bleak disappeared, and there was only her. Her face, her smile, her voice. The things she said to him. The way her words weaved around his body like benign chains that could guide his thoughts and movements as easily as they could hold him in place.

But he couldn't tell her any of that yet. It wasn't a matter of trust; he trusted her with his life. But he knew she didn't feel that deeply about him. It would only make her uncomfortable, jeopardize their relationship. And he most definitely was not going to screw this up.

"Yeah," she agreed softly. "We do."

They were halfway to the diner when Nick noticed Harlene was staring at the wreckage to their right. The route they took always ensured they would pass by crumbling, smoking, once-magnificent structures that served as a reminder of what that nikkle-nut monster-droid Grievous put the planet through not even a month ago. Nick personally couldn't look at it without his throat tightening in anger and helplessness so he didn't blame Harlene in the slightest for the dark look she now wore.

The dark,  _satisfied_  look.

"Harlene?"

"Mmm?"

"Don't take this the wrong way, but…why the frag are you staring at that crushed building like it's the present you've always wanted for your birthday?"

"Because it's thanks to crushed buildings like that that people are starting to realize how much they've been lied to and manipulated over the past three years."

Nick stopped cold. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Her eyes narrowed almost dangerously. "Nick, please don't tell me you don't know the Republic will fall."

On its own accord, Nick's mind raced through counter-arguments, protests, indignant rebuttals, outrage that she could practically state everything he had fought for, suffered for, meant shit as far as the Republic went.

It only took a second for all of them to die meaningless, pathetic deaths.

"Yeah," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Patriotism's contagious, and for a while I thought…but I grew up on Haruun Kal, a planet that's  _part_  of the Republic. I don't need to say anymore than that."

"Then why do you fight? Why do you risk your life?"

He shrugged. "Windu took me off that hell-hole. He made me a major in the Grand Army of the Republic. I want to be a mercenary, and what better way to show the galaxy what I'm made of than to fight in the Clone Wars?"

"I can't think of one," Harlene said, and started walking again. "And there's nothing wrong with exploiting an exploiter. The Republic interfered in the Summertime War only when they wanted something from you. If it weren't for the Clone Wars, they would have let the Balawai wipe the Korunnai off the face of the planet."

"Tell me something I don't know. I mean, I don't want it to fall if scum-buckets like Grievous and Nute Gunray are gonna take over, but I'm no flag-waving patriot. I'll fight until the war's over, until Grievous and Gunray are dead, but that's it. The patriots can handle the cleanup."

"Mace will be disappointed in you."

"I don't care. He's my friend, but the way he talks about the Republic…" Nick shook his head. "…it's like he thinks the galaxy will be plunged into chaos until the end of time if it falls, and nothing will be able to reverse it. It's like…it's like he's in  _love_  with it or something. Sounds crazy, right?"

"Not to Mace," Harlene said. "He is in love with the Republic, so much that he bends reality in order to suit his idealistic expectations. But the Republic will never be what he wants it to be. It's told him that to his face over and over again. He has to let it go if he wants what's best for it and for himself, but he's too needy and weak, too twisted by his idealistic delusions. His love will destroy him. It's like a Greek tragedy."

"Well, I don't think it will destroy him, but I imagine he'll be pretty fraggin' devastated when he learns the Republic can't be what he wants."

Harlene was silent for a moment. "I've never been in love, but I know it can erase all logic, and make people feel vulnerable in ways they've never felt before. Maybe I'm wrong, but I have this feeling that surviving a heart broken by being in love is one of greatest tests of strength we can go through. Mace is overcome with love, and he will get his heart broken. How he responds will define who he really is."

They didn't speak for the rest of the way, mostly because they didn't want to call attention to themselves. The area they had to cut through to get to the diner was littered by more vagrants day by day. Nick had seen ones far filthier, sicker, and more depraved than these, but he had never seen any more pathetic, thanks to their eyes. Their disillusioned eyes.

He pitied them, but they would be on their own once the war was over as far as he was concerned. And really, there wasn't anything he could do for them.

_You can't handle reality? You can't rebuild when you have the means to?_  He tightened his grip on Harlene.  _Well, that ain't my problem. Me, I take care of my own._

The diner was relatively full when they arrived, but not packed like in the later morning hours. Nick ordered dinner, Harlene only caf. The caf arrived before Nick's food, but Harlene didn't appear to notice when the waitress put it in front of her. She was too busy staring into oblivion.

Nick fidgeted, and weighed the consequences of his actions. Eventually, he snapped because he simply could not take it any fraggin' longer.

"Harlene. What happened? What happened to you? C'mon, you're killing me for God's sake! I can't to just sit here like a rotting lammas log while you drown in misery!"

"I already said I can't talk about it. Or do you want me to start bawling my eyes out in a public restaurant?" Before he could reply, she sat straight up and met his eyes. "But you're right. I can't drown in misery. I've already acted selfish and stupid enough as it is."

Nick couldn't help but be relieved. For a while, he thought someone had done something to her, like that bastard friend she mentioned before.

"Join the club," he said with a shrug. "The way things are right now here, seems like everyone's just looking out for themselves."

She glared at him. "So that makes my actions okay?"

"Course not. I'm just sayin' getting caught up in watching your own ass in a time like this doesn't make you scum. And I'm just talking about here. You—you've gotta fight enemies who are capable of destroying entire dimensions! You need to cut yourself some slack, Harlene."

She clasped her hands in front of her and stared at the rim of her mug.

"The CAA is already very angry about the last strike the military thwarted. Now Daemon's told us they're planning an attack on a bigger target. We stop this…who knows what they'll do? Who knows what the Virus Creed will do?"

Under the table, Nick's hands clenched into fists in an effort to mollify his rage and helplessness.

"Harlene, if there's anything I can do—"

"I wish there was something  _we_  could do," she said sharply. "As in we the Observers." She bit her trembling lip. "We've already been officially indoctrinated into the military. In fact, we all hold the rank of Gunnery Sergeant. But the government won't let us fight directly against the CAA."

Nick's jaw dropped. "The frag—why the fuck—how could they be so-?"

"They gave us a number of reasons. We're too young, we're too valuable, we need to stay alive so we can give in to the Virus Creed's blackmail." Her eyes darkened. "But I think fear is their primary motivation. Fear for themselves, for their positions and reputations. Ever since the government was forced to reveal the existence of my creed, they've been taking a lot of heat from the people for supposedly lying to them."

Nick couldn't believe it. "They'd rather focus on punishing the people trying to protect them instead of wiping out the bastards trying to destroy them?"

"It's the fear factor, something the American media has been famous for exploiting whenever a tragedy occurs. Greed is also a culprit. Another thing my country is famous for is filing lawsuits for insanely stupid things. It seems like every second, some employee or gamer or anyone remotely involved in the companies my bosses run is trying to make a grab for some of their wealth. A lot of them are fully capable of fighting the CAA in their own ways, too."

Nick's food arrived, but his anger made his stomach feel tight. He nearly told the waitress to take the meal back. Harlene stirred cream in her caf.

"But enough people are involved to give us a fighting chance. And unlike the Republic, the government isn't white-washing the battle vids. They don't treat us like children who need to be shielded from reality, and they don't censor the facts to make themselves look better." She paused, then amended, "Well, sometimes they do. Every government does, to an extent. It's one of the dark realities of politics. But the censorship isn't nearly as bad as it is here. We the people don't know every little detail, but we don't have to as far as I'm concerned. The CAA and the Virus Creed threaten our freedom and loved ones. That's all I need to know."

Nick stared at her, and then laughed. "Y'know, hearing you talk that way makes me feel like I'm falling under another patriotic spell." He tilted his head in a Korun shrug. "But this time, I don't think I'll regret it."

Harlene smiled. "I think you'd like my country. It's still quite flawed, and has a lot of black skeletons in its closet. But its stayed true to its values despite going through trials that would make you cringe, which is more than I can say for the Republic."

"Well, I'm gonna be fighting for it someday." Nick smirked. "So not liking it isn't an option."

Her brow rose. "You don't like the Republic."

"Maybe, but I'm not fighting for it per se."

He started to dig into his meal in response to his returning hunger, but also so Harlene wouldn't inquire further. And so she wouldn't see his eyes. Even as he was blessing the Force that he got her to smile again, something about that particular smile caused a swelling in his heart that was familiar, but more profound than anything he had ever felt in his life. He swallowed his first bite down a throat that was tight with fear and exhilaration.

And he knew it wasn't a patriotic spell he had fallen under.


	14. Chapter 14

  
" **You find it ironic that your original intention was for Anakin to be her lesson in humility?"**

" **In a way, he is. But you're right. I intended for him to be her true lesson in humility."**

" **Now look who's pouting."**

" **I never believed the universe bends to my will."**

" **But you hate it when your calculations don't reach the solution you intended."**

" **The goal was accomplished. So I'm satisfied."**

" **If you say so."**

" **Her ideas regarding the reality were interesting, were they not?"**

" **You and I both know how much they've changed. How much they've advanced. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if they're starting to change in reaction to the Error Corrector's thoughts and emotions. In fact, I'll go so far as to say I'm certain that's why the bubble shifted the way it did. Harlene's subconscious wanted her to confront the consequences of her mistake. And how else do you explain the Maul that she knew coming back?"**

" **I can't think of any other explanation. The Founders have discussed the changes in the reality over the years. Dr. Anderson confided in me that it sometimes expands without any human interference."**

" ** _Manual_  human interference."**

**xXx**

Harlene greatly enjoyed waking up in Nick's arms. She wouldn't deny the comfort she received when sleeping next to Anakin, Maul, or Aurra, but there was a huge difference. Nick's presence was utterly devoid of the terror and neediness that radiated from the latter three. He exuded nothing but affection, tenderness, and protectiveness. Harlene found it to be more than a little intoxicating, and far more than a little refreshing.

"When are you coming back?"

He was sitting on the bed, watching her as she shape-shifted her clothes. His vivid blue eyes were unusually intense, so much that she nearly blushed.

"As soon as I can," she said. "You know I don't stay away for long unless I have to."

Something entered his expression. Something that was almost pained and afraid. He got up from the bed and walked over to her. Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her. It was very slow and tender. Harlene closed her eyes, letting herself be lost.

He withdrew, but didn't lower his hands. He examined her face as if he wanted to commit every line, every feature, every detail to memory.

"How can you be so damn beautiful?"

She knew he wasn't just referring to her physical appearance. The corners of her mouth lifted.

"There's a saying in my dimension that beauty is in the eye of the beholder."

Nick's brow rose curiously. "Did the guy who invented that saying include blind idiots in his list of beholders?"

"I don't know if he had a list of beholders. But everyone's entitled to their own opinion on what's beautiful. Also, it isn't wise to take sayings word for word."

"Hmm. You got that right." His fingers trailed down her jaw. "Everyone has different opinions, sure. But if anyone says you're anything but beautiful—you just tell me where they live."

Harlene laughed. "Yeah, sure, whatever, Nick."

He smiled and kissed her again before saying good-bye. Harlene felt his gaze heating her back as she exited his apartment.

xXx

The water ration Kar downed was considerably less than the one Harlene gave him after a two- week absence. However, he could not deny the physical benefits of consuming a minimal amount of fresh food and water every five days instead of a single large ration every two weeks.

Harlene had been right. Again.

For her sake, he made an effort to hide how irritated he was, but she seemed to have far more interest in his cell wall than him. Even after he finished, she continued to stare at it as if he wasn't even there.

_Harlene?_

She didn't even blink. Was she angry at him? He would admit to being a bit distant the last time she visited, but he couldn't remember doing anything to provoke her anger. Quite the contrary, he would say that their relationship, while still rough around the edges, was better than it had been in years.

Or maybe that was it. Maybe all of those times he had lashed out at her on Haruun Kal and Kessel were finally catching up. Maybe she was even contemplating leaving him.

A spark of fear that was growing at a rapid pace settled in his gut, and not just at the notion of her abandonment. Before, he had never hesitated to say or do something to make her angry, but now…now he felt a familiar discomfort at the thought of making her genuinely angry with him. It was the exact same discomfort he had felt at the thought of making Depa angry, which was very odd because the way he viewed and desired both females was completely different.

Regardless, he needed to know right now if Harlene was truly angry at him. Cautiously, he reached out to touch her shoulder. He had barely made contact when, quicker than even his eye could follow, her hand grabbed his forearm.

For a moment, he thought she would rip the entire limb from its socket. He had known for a long time that she was perfectly capable of doing that and more. Even before he had been at the receiving end of her strength for the first time, he had seen her hold one of his Akk Guards by the wrist in an unbreakable joint lock. And that was almost three years ago. Who knew how much her strength had grown since then?

But she didn't hurt him. Quite the contrary, her eyes widened and she immediately let him go before dropping her head in shame.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I was just…thinking."

She wasn't angry at him, he suddenly realized. She was upset. He ignored the wave of relief that swept through him and immediately asked what was wrong.

Suddenly, her demeanor changed. The hollow look she had worn while staring at his cell wall was now replaced by casualness and a slight trace of confusion. "Nothing. I'm sorry. Things have just been a bit rough lately. I'll be fine."

His first inclination was to believe her. He would have believed her without question, but her previous behavior told a much different story.

_Do not insult my intelligence,_  he growled.  _You are deeply troubled. Tell me right now what has happened._

Harlene's face contorted into an ugly scowl.

"Go fuck yourself, Vastor."

She looked away after uttering the foul order, so she didn't see him bare his teeth. But his anger began to dissipate when he saw her shoulders hunch even further. If she was this upset, then ordering her to tell him what was wrong was perhaps the stupidest thing he could do if he wanted her to confide in him or let him help her. He took a deep breath to calm himself, but had to hide a wince when the movement disturbed a new burn at his side courtesy of Jul Tur's staff.

_I wish to help you,_  he tried. She didn't respond.  _You are my friend, Harlene. It disturbs me very much to see you this way._

Her response was to stare at the wall, but Kar didn't try again since her eyes were now contemplating instead of hollow.

"I know I need to get over myself," she said at last. "I can't change the past. I can't take it back. I need to move on and I need to stop burdening other people."

Kar's mouth fell open and worked for several moments, but speaking was impossible due to his incredulity.

"Kar?" Harlene was staring at him in surprised.

When he finally managed to talk, his voice didn't come out the bellow he intended, but her reaction was satisfactory enough.

_You dare to presume that you are burdening me? You dare to!?_

To her credit, she had the grace to look ashamed. "Okay, that was wrong."

_It appears I am not the only one who needed to acknowledge our relationship has changed,_  he said coldly.

"Maybe," Harlene said. "You're right. I shouldn't be afraid of burdening you. But I'm also not obligated to tell you everything."

_Then I suggest you take your own advice: make a choice. I desire to help you with whatever is troubling you. Moreover, I will always give you aide if you need it. You can choose to accept it or not._

Kar knew then and there that the best way to win a verbal battle with Harlene was to throw her own words back at her. It reminded him of a lesson he had always drilled into his Akk Guards during their training:  _No matter how resilient the metal of the vibroshield, always remember that its weakness lies in its own structure._

To Kar's eternal humiliation, it was that very lesson he had forgotten in his last battle against Mace Windu. He glanced at the scars on his wrists where his hands had been temporarily severed by the edge of the vibroshield Mace had telekinetically hurled at him.

"There's a difference between talking about something and ranting about it." Harlene's voice cut into his thoughts. "And I know if I start, I won't stop."

_I have endured your lectures for three years. I am certain I can handle one rant without suffering permanent damage._

"Kar, I come here to help you cope with living in the worst hell this dimension has to offer. Not to incessantly whine to you about my angst-ridden, emo problems."

Kar smirked, but could tell she was weakening. He then said in a serious yet gentle voice,  _what happened, Harlene?_

She bit her lip. "I've recently made an invaluable contribution to my journey of self-discovery."

_Oh?_

"Yes, I have recently discovered…" disgust filled her tone. "…what a fucking joke I am." Her eyes were brimming with emotion, one of which was self-loathing. "Do you happen to recall that nice, long lecture I gave you on how you're not supposed to be close-minded or the galaxy will leave you behind? Do you happen to remember that I said I was once as guilty of it as you were? Well, I'm still guilty of it. How do you like that Kar? I've become what I've always loathed beyond comprehension. I'm a self…righteous… _hypocrite."_

The emotions she was projecting seemed as violent and unpredictable as a wild akk's. Kar had tamed many akks throughout his lifetime and knew that the key to doing so was creating a bond through  _pelekotan._  Through a bond, he could feel the akk's emotions, its primitive logic, its desires. Mutual understanding soon followed, and only then could he hope to influence it.

_What caused you to come to such a conclusion?_  He asked.

She told her tale, during which she sat, paced, shouted, and whispered. Finally she sat down again, looking spent.

"Claire says I need to let it go, to forgive myself, and she's right." Harlene drew her knees up to her chest. "But just when I think I can, it hits me out of nowhere, and I feel so lost." She exhaled a large breath. "But it felt good to rant. I didn't even realize how much I needed to. I thought crying until my eyes bled twice would be enough. Thanks a lot, Kar."

_Do not mention it. But are you still interested in hearing my advice?_

"Of course."

_Pay closer attention to the burdens you already carry, and judge the significance each of them holds. You may be surprised at how much one outweighs the other._

Harlene sighed. "Yeah, Nick said something similar. He said I need to cut myself some slack because of all the wars I'm fighting. In addition to what you said, he's right. I made a horrible mistake that nearly cost me someone I hold dear, but if I let myself get distracted by what almost happened, I'll lose focus on what could happen."

_The Virus Creed. The Congress of Aryan Alliances._

"Yeah."

Her face was dark, but her emotions were no longer unstable. Kar felt relieved

_(Bonds aren't such a bad thing, you know.)_

and annoyed at the same time.

_Did you just say it was Nick Rostu who gave you such advice?_

"Yeah…"

Kar snorted.  _A stroke of genuine wisdom from that boy at last? Apparently, you do not always bring out the worst in beings as I originally thought._

"Kar, why are you calling him a boy? You barely have two years on him."

Kar scowled.  _Age is no measure of wisdom or knowledge._

"You really are that reluctant to give Nick credit for anything, aren't you?"

_My opinion of him has not changed. You know very well I do not suffer fools at all._

"Well, I've got news for you, Kar," Harlene said sweetly. "You've been suffering probably the biggest fool this galaxy has ever seen for the past three years."

_That is different. There is such a thing as a moderately tolerable fool._

"You just said you don't suffer fools."

_There is a minor difference between a fool and a moderately tolerable fool._

"But you just said you don't suffer fools  _at all."_

_You really are that determined to twist my words?_

"I repeated them verbatim."

_This is getting annoying._

"'Cause you know you just completely contradicted yourself."

_Shut up._

Harlene laughed. Kar normally loathed it when others had fun at his expense, but there was no mockery in her eyes. In fact, if it weren't for his pride, he would probably be smiling right now.

"Now  _that_ is self-righteous hypocrisy, my friend," Harlene said in a far more cheerful voice than before. "But I guess it goes to show that it's not always a bad thing."

Kar nodded, almost against his will, and shifted his body into a more comfortable position. Unfortunately, the movement disturbed the new burn at his side, and he could not stop himself from wincing.

"What's wrong?" Harlene immediately asked.

_It's nothing._

"Bullshit. Where are you hurt?"

The burn wasn't that bad, and as painful as the disinfections were, they kept his wounds clean. But he knew he had to at least show her or he would never hear the end of it. Reluctantly, he turned to expose his side. Harlene scanned the injury.

_It doesn't hurt much, and I have had much worse,_  he said as Harlene reached out to touch him.

To his surprise, she laughed instead of scowled. "My God, you're as bad at subterfuge as Nick is. Then again, he already knew I was aware of his intentions." Her face and voice softened. "And he knew he was going to win."

Her hands rested on either side of his burn, but she didn't seem focused on her task at all. Her eyes were distracted. Very distracted. And soft.

Suspicion gnawed at Kar.

_Are you involved with Rostu?_

She looked up at him calmly. "Yes. I am."

_You are in love with him?_

"No. We've only been involved for a short while."

_That is completely irrelevant. Have you examined your feelings for him? How can you be certain you aren't in love with him?_

She gave him a funny look. "Why are you so interested?" Her mouth lifted in a small, teasing grin. "Are you jealous?"

_I have never desired you in such a way, and I never will,_  he growled.

"Then why are you so interested in my feelings for Nick?"

_He is willfully obnoxious and makes a great effort to not take important things seriously. I do not believe he has ever had a serious relationship with any woman, and he cannot use the Summertime War as an excuse. Should you expose your heart to him, you could only be preparing yourself for more pain and suffer—_

Kar suddenly found himself pinned against the wall by his throat.

"Now  _that_ is an excellent example of when self-righteous hypocrisy is a very, very bad thing," Harlene whispered. "Especially considering the fact that a part of you knows damn well Nick Rostu is a better man than you could ever hope to be."

Kar gripped her arm, but he might as well have been trying to rip apart starship armor with his bare hands. Harlene's fingers tightened, completely cutting off his air.

"If you want to wallow in your own ignorant bullshit, that's your decision. But I'd recommend keeping it to yourself or I may discover that I have a lot more pity for those poor energy spiders that have to endure the destruction of their homes and nests day in and day out instead of you."

She released him. He sank to the floor, coughing and gasping for breath. When he began to massage his throat, he felt Harlene touch the side of his neck. The pain vanished and his breathing became normal.

Kar looked up at her. She was staring at him with blank eyes. But when she had been strangling him, he had seen her hatred for him.

And for herself.

He knew what he was about to say next could carry a terrible price, but he was no coward.

_You may find I am not so ignorant after all._

She disappeared. But not before he saw her self-loathing again.

xXx

After reading  _Dune Messiah_ , Harlene developed a love-hate relationship with Frank Herbert's legendary series. Her hatred was a bit more unique than her love. If she was completely honest, she hated the series so much because she knew she would absolutely love it if Herbert had written his characters better. His dialogue was choppy, and his descriptions of their feelings made Harlene go little more than 'meh' whenever something deeply dramatic happened. But if Stephen King, J.K. Rowling, or Matthew Stover had written such characters and scenes, she knew she would be moved to tears.

However, as she told Claire, she loved the portrayal of religion, politics, and ecosystem. Herbert was no delusional idealist. He was ruthless in his portrayal of the harsh reality of all three, and Harlene dearly hoped he would expand upon the Bene Gesserit, a secretive order comprised of only women who possessed superhuman fighting abilities and powers.

She was about to pick up  _Children of Dune_  when a knock sounded at her door.

"Come in."

It was Claire. "How are you doing?" she asked.

Harlene sighed. "Better, actually."

"I'm afraid you'll only be able to sleep in tonight. The schedule has changed. You'll need to go in again tomorrow."

Harlene shrugged. "Well, we've got to do what we've got to do."

Claire leaned against the bookshelf. "I have to say your progress with the training is nothing short of remarkable. In fact, maybe we should tone it down a bit. It could be dangerous to channel so much power so soon."

"I'll follow your lead, Claire, you know that."

"I do," her mentor said softly. She paused for a moment before asking, "How are things with Nick?"

_(Here it comes, child.)_

"They're very good," Harlene replied. "He's been working a lot harder, coming home a lot later. He really wants to get a ship. For the both of us."

"The both of you?"

"Yeah." Harlene's voice was devoid of emotion. "He wants to show me that he can provide for the both of us if this becomes long-term. Being a Clone Wars veteran will make him a shoo-in for big time mercenary corporations. He works for them for a few years, and he'll be able to make his own way. Our own way. It'll just be me and him."

The silence that followed was hollow and bleak. When Claire broke it, her voice was weary.

"Harlene, you can't keep this up much longer."

Harlene didn't even look at her.

"If he's talking about providing for you, if he's talking about your relationship becoming long-term, then he's already thinking about marrying you someday and starting a family with you. I'm the last person in the universe who will blame you for starting a relationship with him, but if you truly care for him, then you need to break it off."

Harlene stared at the couch in front of her. Her fingers felt numb. They always felt numb when she was out of the reality, but imagining that she was channeling over ten million volts into her hands.

"Did you hear me?" Claire asked softly.

Harlene leaned back. "Yes, Claire." Her voice was the embodiment of calmness. "You don't need to say it. You don't need to tell me that I can't have him because he has to fall in love with that redheaded  _ **CUNT**_  Aeona Cantor." After a pause, she added, "No offense to you, of course."

"None taken," Claire said dryly, but her face was still sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Harlene."

"I never should have gotten involved with him in the first place," Harlene said, rubbing her face. "It was selfish."

"Are you in love with him?"

"No. But still…"

"But still," Claire agreed.

Harlene spent the remainder of the day alone. Her mind took on a near-bipolar state: one minute she was thinking calmly and deeply, and then without warning, she would start raging at the unfairness of the universe while her insides boiled with jealousy.

Jealousy.

That was an emotion Harlene had little to no experience with. As she told Dooku years ago, she never had any reason to feel jealousy, not even when Anakin subjected her to soppy, over-the-top speeches of his slavish, dysfunctional love for Oobadooba. Possessive as she was of Anakin, she took a perverse satisfaction in his relationship with Oobadooba. While their love couldn't be more intense, the core of it was based on need, fascination, and shallow physical attraction instead of a healthy emotional connection. It amused Harlene to no end that they were perfectly compatible for every wrong reason imaginable.

No, she had never been jealous of Oobadooba. But now Harlene had to face the highly unpleasant reality of Nick's future girlfriend, Aeona Cantor. For a while, she directed her hatred at Matthew Stover. If he had never written  _Luke Skywalker and the Shadows of Mindor,_  she wouldn't have to worry about another woman in Nick's life. But if Stover hadn't written  _Mindor_ , there was a strong possibility the Founders would have filled in the blanks by killing him off along with Kar. Then again, it was heavily implied in  _Mindor_  that Nick and Kar had died while pursuing Blackhole.

Well, that wouldn't happen. Harlene knew in her soul that the Virus Creed would attack her reality before the  _Mindor_  part of the Star Wars timeline came about, but even if they didn't…she wasn't going to let Nick and Kar die. There were no questions. If she had to, she would put them both in another bubble like Maul.

Deciding to dwell on the inevitable consequences and morality of such a decision later, she returned her focus, and her ire, to Aeona Cantor. God, Harlene loathed her.  _Star Wars_  possessed its fair share of cunts, and Aeona was in the top two percent. She could be caring and compassionate at times, but the unspeakable torture and death of innocents meant nothing to her if they got in the way of her goals. When Blackhole had taken Nick prisoner, Aeona spent weeks trying to rescue him. Needing a ship, she stole the  _Millennium Falcon_  from Han and Leia before abandoning them to the Melters, creatures who imprisoned organic beings in caves that were devoid of light. If said organic beings didn't die of dehydration first, they would die from madness. Han, Leia, and Chewbacca had been outnumbered against Aeona and her troops. It would have been effortless to stun them and tie them up, but she abandoned them to a fate worse than death due to laziness and self-righteous hypocrisy.

After indulging in several fantasies that involved skinning Aeona alive, Harlene considered her options that night instead of getting any sleep. She thought about checking the databases to find out when Nick and Aeona were supposed to meet. Maybe if it was years or decades from now, there was a chance that…

Harlene groaned and clutched her head. What the fuck was wrong with her? Practically wishing that the Virus Creed would threaten her reality just so she could stay with a man she wasn't even in love with. How could she have such selfish, horrific thoughts?

Well, maybe it wasn't such a bad thing to have thoughts like that so long as they were fleeting, and that she didn't act on them. If she wanted to find a solution, she could not lie to herself about her feelings.

Unfortunately, there was only one solution, and Harlene forced herself to face it when she was in her reality the next day. When she was standing in front of the door of Nick's apartment. It was late, so she didn't need to check her comm to see if he was home. Taking a deep breath to calm a heart that was mercilessly pounding dread and guilt through her system, she knocked on the door. It had barely opened a crack before a strong hand grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside.

Before Harlene knew it, his lips were on hers, but the kiss wasn't firm. It was incredibly deep and tender. It was a kiss that no amount of nobility or willpower could force her to break, so she had to wait for Nick to do so. When he did, he only paused briefly before kissing her again. And again. And again. Bile rose in Harlene's throat and she practically wrenched herself away. Nick looked flabbergasted.

"Harlene…?"

"I'm sorry," she said in a hoarse voice. She quickly turned away and put a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Hey, hey, don't you dare," Nick said firmly. He spun her around.  _"I'm_  sorry, I-I should know better than to surprise you like that. I can't know what the hell could have happened to you in the time you were away, what you could have come to me for. Christ, I need get my fraggin' act together and control myself." The self-recrimination on his face softened slightly into a smile. "However difficult that is."

Harlene stared into his eyes. Such beautiful, vivid blue eyes that were totally devoid of fear, selfishness, resentment, need…she wanted those eyes so much. She never wanted them to go away.

"Harlene?" he asked softly.

_It's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not FUCKING FAIR!_

"Are you all right?"

She forced herself to calm down when she saw something akin to genuine alarm on his face. She dropped her gaze and nodded.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

Harlene expected him to call her on her bullshit, but instead he said, "Well, if you're okay now…" he took her hand and led her to the kitchen counter, "…you'll be even more okay after this."

He held up what looked to be two tickets and grinned. Harlene frowned in confusion. "What…?"

"These (drum roll) are proof of reservation for two at the Sunrider."

Harlene froze. She had heard of the Sunrider through Aurra. It was a restaurant in Cornonet City, the capital of Corellia. It was incredibly popular, due in large part to Zeltron investment and influence. Supposedly, it could sometimes take months to get reservations. Also…

"Nick, it costs about a hundred credits per person to eat there! What about your ship-?"

"Ah, don't worry about that," he assured her. "I've been putting a little cash off to the side for months now. I'll still get the ship on schedule."

"But—"

He cut her off by gently placing two fingers on her lips.

"No buts," he said softly. "You were right, Harlene. The both of us are living in some very fucked up times right now, and the only thing that's worse than dying with regrets is living with regrets. I…" He swallowed before continuing. "…I should've told Chalk how I felt, even if I knew without a doubt that she would have responded by pointing her Thunderbolt at me and threatening to blow my guts out if I ever came near her again. What I felt for her was real, and what I felt…what I feel for you is real. C'mon, Harlene, we're not fighting right now. We've got a golden opportunity just to be together for one day where we don't have to walk down a street and see all the burning buildings and miserable faces. We can just be us, together." His hands framed her face. "What do ya say?"

Yes, Nick, I'll go with you. We'll have the time of our lives for one day that will feel like less than one second. And then I'll be gone. You won't ever hear from me again. You'll think I'm dead. You'll mourn, but you'll move on. You'll be all right. You'll have no regrets, no regrets at all. You can live without me, you can protect yourself unlike those  _children—_

"Nick…"

"Yeah?"

"…it's over."

xXx

He wanted to pretend that he thought he hadn't heard correctly. He wanted to pretend that she was joking. But those two words uttered in that dead, serious voice completely robbed him of one of his brain's most basic emotional defense mechanisms: the blissful power of delusion.

"I said it's over."

He hadn't realized that the word "what?" had escaped his mouth. Before he could gather his wits enough to speak again, Harlene shook her head rapidly, biting her lip and looking down.

"I'm so sorry. I never should have…"

"What are you talking about?" he whispered with calmness he did not feel at all. "What the frag are you talking about…?"

"It's over, Nick!" she shouted, wrenching herself away from him. "Our relationship, it's over! I thought…I wanted…" her eyes filled with tears, and she looked like she was struggling not to sob. "I wanted to pretend it was all right, that they wouldn't make me give you up, but I knew they would…"

"Harlene, you'd better tell me what the fuck it is you're saying," Nick said, but with suspicion and concern instead of the hurt and betrayal tearing at his heart. "Who is 'they'? Are you talking about your superiors? Did they threaten you?"

"No," she said. "They never would have recruited me to be an Observer if they thought they had to threaten me into leaving you. Nick…" she stared at him with pained eyes. "I can't make you understand. You would never believe me—"

"Why don't you try me?" he said so coldly that he saw her flinch in response.

"Nick, please…"

"No!" He grabbed her arms. "You are going to tell me right now why you've suddenly decided that everything we've been through, everything we've shared suddenly means as much to you as a bucket of rotting tusker poop!"

Her eyes went wide. "That's not…Nick, how can you say such a thing!?"

"How can I not?" he shouted back. "Out of the clear blue sky you say 'it's over', and you don't even have the guts to tell why!"

"I can't tell you why!" She pushed herself away from him. "You would never believe me! And even if you could…even if we could work something out…Nick, I can't marry you, I can't give you children-"

"We'll adopt, then," he blurted. "Harlene, there are billions of kids out there! Family doesn't mean blood, you know that. And marriage…it's so overrated. Who cares about marriage? And…and who cares about kids, too? We don't need kids, we don't need marriage, we just need…we just need…"

But his voice died in his throat when he could no longer pretend that every word he spoke seemed to further drive an invisible knife into her heart.

"Why?" The question came out hoarsely and almost pitiful in its desperation. "Why, Harlene? I don't care how crazy it sounds. Just please tell me why."

She was biting her lip so hard, he saw a small, crimson drop well up under her teeth.

"You can't tell anyone," she said at last. "Not Mace, not anyone. If you do, I'll be punished by my superiors."

Forcing some calmness into his voice, he replied, "Sure. I can keep a secret."

The words had barely left his mouth when she continued. "During our training, our superiors made sure that the consequences for interfering with all but engrained into our minds. But as much as they trust us, they know we aren't infallible. The fact that I got involved with you is proof enough of that. So they used their abilities to discover each future of the dimensions and told us in turn. That way it would be all the more difficult for us to delude ourselves into thinking we weren't interfering when we were."

"You know the future," Nick repeated numbly.

She nodded. "I don't know everything, not even my superiors do. But I know enough. I know about your future, Nick. You…" Her jaw clenched. "You're going to fall in love with another woman. I don't know when, but I do know you will."

Nick just stared at her, feeling as if he had just been punched in the gut. But it wasn't for the reason he knew she thought.

"That's it?"

She blinked. "What?"

"Y-you…you thought that…" and incredulous laugh bubbled through his lips. "…and…and here  _I_ thought…"

His laughter grew slightly delirious. Harlene looked both offended and unnerved.

"Nick, do you think I would joke about something like this?"

"No," he managed when he regained himself. "No, I don't think you've ever been more serious."

"Then why the hell—?"

"Because you're so convinced that I'd give two handfuls of snot about some nameless, faceless schutta in the so-called future. So let me set the record straight, kiddo: I  _don't._  You're who I'm with, you're who I want…you're who I—" he cut himself off, took a deep breath and continued. "Your bosses may be able to predict the future, but they sure as hell can't stop me from making my own choices. When you see them again, tell them to shove their 'future' up their—"

"Nick this isn't just about you and me!" Harlene shouted. "This isn't about interfering with anyone's ability to choose. This is about preventing tragedy and chaos in both of our dimensions! Maybe you not being with that other woman won't cause such destruction, but can you look me in the eye and tell me you know for a fact it won't cause any negative changes at all?"

Nick just stared at her, and a sudden realization dawned on him.

"You knew about Chalk."

She flinched, but her eyes remained hard. "I knew about Chalk. And other people, too."

Nick never took the cliché that eyes were windows to the soul too seriously, but looking into Harlene's, he found he could see several scars that would never fully heal. But right now with the knowledge of their break-up threatening to crush his soul, he couldn't bring himself to care. Numbly, he walked to the living room and collapsed on the couch, burying his face in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Nick." Though her voice was laced with despair, it was like she was a million miles away. "But this is how it has to be. Can't you see it's better this way? Could you fall in love with me and then let me go?"

Nick laughed derisively and looked up at her. "Oh, sweetheart, let me tell you, it's far,  _far_  too late to be askin'  _that."_

Her eyes widened. So did his. He honestly hadn't meant to say that, to admit that. But there was no taking it back. Gritting his teeth, he abruptly stood up.

"Get out of here, Harlene."

She reached for him. "Nick…"

"I said, get out!"

Stopping in her tracks, she lowered her arm. Her eyes had been wet with tears, but now they were burning with anger.

"You know, this is a far cry from before." Her voice was harsh. "Whatever happened to 'you're fighting two wars, Harlene,' 'you need to cut yourself some slack, Harlene,' 'it's not so bad to watch your own ass in times like these, Harlene'? Forgot to mention that the only time I'm exempted from all that is when it negatively affects you, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess I did," Nick said nastily. The pain in his heart was feeding his temper, and he made no effort to stop it. "Just like you forgot to mention that I'm not supposed to condone you unless it's convenient for you."

"I never asked you to condone me. I merely repeated your own words back at you. Don't blame me if you can get that through that obnoxious, retarded skull of yours."

"So we're down to that, are we?" Nick whispered. His lips twisted in a sick grin. "Guess I was wrong. You…you're just like all the others. They said I was so charming, so funny, so goddamn  _witty,_  and then when it was over…just a kid, a snot-for-brains, obnoxious  _kid._  Retarded. That's a new one. I should say congrats for being original at least."

"Nick—"

"NO!" he screamed, pointing at her. "Don't you dare give me a fraggin' pity look, don't you DARE lie!" His voice rose even further. He knew the moment he stopped shouting, he was going to start crying. "I know what you really think of me now, so say it! I want you to say it! SAY IT-!"

She slammed him against the wall. Like last time, the force of the impact was only enough to jar him, to shut him up. Her hands pinned his arms, while her blazing eyes pinned his soul.

"All right," she whispered. "I'll say it. Nick Rostu, you're obnoxious, childish, whiny, immature…" Her voice dropped to a hiss. "…and you are the  _best_ damn companion I have ever had in this entire dimension."

She kissed him. Hard. Nick was caught in a whirlwind of passion and regret. When she tore her mouth away, he saw that her cheeks were wet.

"Goodbye," she whispered and disappeared.

xXx

No Jedi, no matter how wise or powerful, ever escaped the will of the Force, even after becoming one with it. Infinite knowledge was at their disposal, but they could share it with the living only when a specific shift in balance occurred. Also, if the Force had a task for them, then they had no choice but to complete it. Qui-Gon Jinn had experienced this many times since his demise, but his devotion to the Force only increased as time went by. He would carry out its will with reverence and gratitude for all of eternity.

Even so, he would have to admit that his latest task was the strangest he had ever faced.

The Force had locked him in a state where he could not remember dying or anything that happened afterward. He had relived vital events of his past life, but after the Force released him, he realized how drastically different said events turned out this time. Master Quinlan Vos and Obi-Wan assisted him against his duel with the Zabrak Sith apprentice. They were able to wound and capture him, and they captured Harlene also.

The Jedi Council debating on what to do with the prisoners.

Harlene taunting him and Vos about the futility of their interrogations.

The Council making a decision that defied every aspect of the Jedi Code and the Force itself.

Qui-Gon rushing to get Harlene, knowing what he had to do…

When it was over, he searched the Force for an explanation. But he did not find one.

_You'll get your explanation soon enough._

Realization dawned on Qui-Gon.

"This was all you."

_It was._

"Do you truly believe you have the right to interfere with the will of the Force simply because you have the ability to?"

The Voice laughed.  _It's not that I have the right to, Qui-Gon. It's that I must. And you should know that you did very well. Even with no knowledge of the future events you have lived, you proved yourself to be a far more worthy servant of the Force than your peers. And an even more worthy servant of decency and justice._

Qui-Gon closed his eyes as he remembered the horror, disappointment, and yes, anger that had coursed through him when he learned the levels his fellow Jedi were willing to sink to in order to achieve their goals. Even now a part of him tried to deny that any Jedi could commit such an atrocity, that it had all been an illusion, but he knew that that was exactly what the Council would have done if they had captured the Sith apprentice alive.

_Master Yoda, Mace, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Plo…what have you become…?_

_They have become a very great threat. You don't want to know what would happen if they succeeded in taking over the Republic._

Harlene's voice echoed in his mind;  _They would become even worse than the Sith…_

_I'll leave you alone. But Harlene will need you soon. Be there for her._

It was impossible for one to be truly alone after becoming one with the Force, but Qui-Gon didn't bother to correct the Voice. Instead, he reached out, testing currents and shifts. Right now, the strongest came from Darth Sidious, Anakin Skywalker, and Harlene Ballantine.

Harlene. He knew she had murdered the Jedi who had attempted to purge Darth Maul's mind. Her currents were quite unstable right now. Perhaps she was about to do something drastic. He needed to find out what, and if he could persuade her against it.

When he found her, he was relieved to see that she was merely sitting on the ledge of a Coruscant skyscraper. It was possible that she was contemplating the consequences of her actions before rushing into them.

Possible.

"Harlene?"

"My life sucks, Qui-Gon."

Her voice was flat. Almost defeated. Before Qui-Gon could think of an appropriate answer, she laughed and turned to look at him.

"Yeah. I know what you're thinking: what a typical, self-absorbed adolescent thing to say. And you know what? I couldn't agree more." She turned to stare off into the distance. "But I have to admit, I'm very surprised at myself."

Qui-Gon said nothing, knowing it was best to simply listen for now.

"A couple of years ago, or maybe even just one year ago, I would be wallowing in misery and guilt right now. I mean I do feel hurt and guilty. But not nearly as much as I thought I would." She looked at him. "Is that bad?"

"Perhaps you should tell me what caused you to feel hurt and guilty first," he suggested.

She smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, I guess I should. I broke up with Nick."

After giving him the details, he said, "I believe it is a very good thing that you do not feel as bad as you thought so long as it is due to personal emotional strength." He sat down beside her. "Do you feel stronger?"

"Yes," she said after a while. "But I'm also angry. I want to hurt something, Qui-Gon. Or someone." A smile curled her mouth. "And I know just the person."

She disappeared. When he felt her go into the Force, he knew exactly where she was going. To who she was going.

xXx

Dooku didn't move when he sensed a storm behind him. In turn, the storm remained exactly where it was, silent on the outside, but blazing on the inside. Dooku continued to stare at the fireplace, knowing very well that a conversation, or battle, would not occur for at least an hour. Really, she could be incredibly predictable at times.

"What have you learned, Dooku?"

Reaching into the Force, Dooku smiled when he discovered two hours had passed.

"I have learned a great many things," he replied evenly.

"Dooku, would you like to know the difference between lying to me and telling me lies that you already know I won't believe? With the latter, the only person whose intelligence you're insulting is your own."

Annoyance crept up, but it was far from difficult to hide.

"Of course," he said. "How foolish of me. For a moment I forgot:  _you_  are the expert on delusion, little one."

A whisper of movement to his right.

" _The_  expert, Count?  _An_  expert maybe, but it would be very brazen of me to admit I am  _the_  expert. Regardless, I would like to talk to you about delusion. Particularly one that you did everything in your power to encourage." He felt her breath tickle his ear. "Darth Maul is  _no…_   _pervert."_

Dooku sighed inwardly. "I am aware of that."

He felt her go very still.

"I was erroneous in my interpretation of his behavior towards you," he continued. "My former Padawan managed to convince me as much." He steepled his fingers together. "You deeply regret the judgment you have bestowed, and now you seek retribution against me for manipulating you. Need I remind you that it was your decision to interpret his actions as dishonorable?"

"Oh, it was. In fact, I'll go so far as to say I deserve all the blame, all the heartache."

Her hand grabbed his throat.

"But that doesn't mean you're off the hook."

He didn't resist as she dragged him out of the chair. Mostly because he was incredulous that while one with the Force, he could still feel the physical effects of strangulation.

She slammed him against the floor. Dooku felt his scalp grow hot under his hair and knew he was dangerously close to the fireplace. Harlene loomed over him, her pale face drenched in bloodred light.

"Wh—" he hacked out. "What—are—you?"

Her smile was slight, but not even the widest grin could hope to come within light years of those hideously blank eyes.

"I could slowly roast you," she whispered, ignoring his question. "Smell your hair burn, your flesh, your blood, your skull. But no." She moved close enough to kiss him. "I am far,  _far_  more sadistic than that."

She gripped his skull with both hands, and Dooku was plunged into darkness.

No. Not just darkness. Emptiness. No light, no sound, no physical sensation whatsoever. He was surrounded by sheer nothingness. He was aware of himself, and only himself. He was incapable of even forming a single thought. Only himself. All by himself. Alone, alone, alone…

A thousand years passed before he was released. When sensation and the ability to form thoughts returned to him, he was completely overwhelmed with more terror and relief than he had ever felt in his entire life. He lay on the floor, shivering, gasping dry sobs. Sobs that were abruptly cut off courtesy of a hand wrapping around his throat and lifting his upper body off the floor.

Harlene smiled.

"How do you like it?"

Dooku knew he should be grateful that she was nearly choking him else he would have been reduced to begging.

"What's the matter, Dooku?" she asked calmly. "Don't you just love it when you take a drink from your own bottle? Don't you just love the taste? I know, it's delicious, isn't it? It thrills, and it grills, and it chills, and it fills, and it kills, and don't I just sound so very deranged and psychotic?"

"Harlene!"

Her eyes narrowed, and she looked to her right.

"Drop him.  _Now."_

She obeyed. Dooku hit the floor with a thud. He coughed and gasped, rubbing his throat, still in shock from what he just endured.

He felt a pair of strong, gentle hands help him stand up. To his immense relief he saw it was his former Padawan.

"Is she-?"

"She's gone, Master." Qui-Gon appeared very weary. He helped Dooku sit before taking the chair opposite to him.

"What did she do?"

Dooku rubbed his temples. His breathing was under control now. Or at least the sensation of breathing was. Sometimes it was easy to forget he was no longer among the living.

"She wanted me to suffer and she succeeded," he said. "But she also unknowingly, or perhaps knowingly, aided me on my journey of self-discovery."

"What are you talking about?"

"Before my demise I believed wholeheartedly I knew what it meant to be Sith. But now I realize how dreadfully mistaken I was." He leaned back so that his head touched the chair and closed his eyes. "I now know what it truly means to be Sith."

xXx

_Maybe I'm wrong,_  Harlene thought as she gazed into the endless sea of stars before her.  _Maybe I do know what it would be like to touch the Force. Maybe it's like touching the Interface._

She reached out a hand, tracing the stars and various constellations. Floating in the deepest depths of space with not a planet in sight, she couldn't have been more alone. But loneliness was the last thing she felt when gazing at the majestic wonder before her. She closed her eyes and opened her mind.

_Tell me,_  she commanded the Interface. Show  _me. Show me. Where does it end?_

She had done this before, both out of duty and personal interest. After all, it was an Error Corrector's job to make certain the realities were functioning properly. In the beginning, there had been an end to the galaxy. She had seen it herself. It suffered from the same problems that affected certain skyscrapers on Coruscant, as well as other objects/areas in the reality. Comprised of primitive looking pixels and blurs, it had not been an impressive end. But as time passed, as the pixels gradually became smoother, the blurs less defined. The same thing went for the other realities. Noelle had reported that there were certain areas of Hogwarts that seemed…incomplete. Jacob claimed that he had difficulty making out certain parts of the Hokage Monument at first, and Roan said that there had been certain parts of the Black Pearl he simply could not access.

Until now.

John had told her that those blurs would always be there, that there was no way that the realities could ever be totally perfect. It was the reason why the Error Correctors were recruited in the first place.

But now Harlene was floating before the so-called end of the galaxy, and there was so much more she could see. And feel.

_Show me. Show me. Where does it end?_

_(It doesn't end, Error Corrector. It once did, but that has changed.)_

Harlene gasped, retracting her mental probe. There was so much out there. So much more. It didn't end, she realized, and she didn't know whether to feel elated or terrified.

But she did know she had to tell Claire.

**Harlene, are you certain?**

"I wouldn't make something like this up," Harlene said sharply. "I couldn't sense an end to the galaxy. I don't think there is one!"

**There was silence on the other end.**

"Claire, I know John and the others have been trying to improve the realities, but I know for a fact they would have told us about this. If they were responsible."

" **If they aren't responsible, then who is?"**

"I…" Harlene shook her head. "I know this is gonna sound crazy…"

" **You think the technology is fixing its problems all on its own?"**

"…yeah."

" **Harlene, you aren't the first on to come up with that theory. Several of us have noticed…anomalies if you will. But they're very positive anomalies. In fact, many of them have enabled is to explore parts of our realities that were originally closed off."**

"But do your realities still have an end?"

" **Yes."**

"Then…"

" **I'll report this to Dr. Anderson. Harlene, if you can't sense an end, then whatever you do, don't try to find one."**

Harlene snorted. "I'm not that daring Claire."

In reality, the prospect of trying to find an end when she couldn't sense one terrified her.

" **Good. Is there anything else?"**

"Yeah. Claire…I was able to do my first mental attack."

" **Really?"**

Her mentor sounded incredulous. But no more incredulous than Harlene was. There were limits to an Error Corrector's power, one of which was that they were unable to psychically sense the emotions of the characters, or read their minds. Mental attacks weren't uncommon, but…

"I was angry," Harlene said, but her voice sounded mechanical even to her own ears. "I wanted to hurt Dooku badly for manipulating me. Beating him wasn't enough, so I grabbed him and…"

" **What kind of mental attack was it?"**

"I temporarily stripped his mind of everything. His memories, his senses, even his ability to form thoughts. I wanted him to get a taste of what Maul went through when the Jedi attacked his mind. It was as much as I could do without murdering his soul."

" **Did you succeed?"**

"He was practically sobbing like a baby when I was through."

"… **."**

"Claire?"

" **Harlene."**  Claire sounded more serious than Harlene had ever heard her.  **"I couldn't do my first mental attack until I was almost seventeen."**

Harlene felt the blood drain from her face.

"Tha…that's imposs—"

" **I highly doubt you need to feel scared,"**  Claire assured her.  **"In fact…this is nothing short of incredible."**

"You're right," Harlene spoke slowly so she wouldn't betray her shortness of breath. "We should go easy on the lessons for now."

" **Perhaps. We'll decide during your next lesson. And Harlene? Remember the consequences for irrational emotions. Not caring for power by itself is good. But fearing power is a different matter altogether."**

"I know," Harlene whispered and hung up.

Drifting in space, she closed her eyes and relaxed before murmuring the Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear.

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."

xXx

The huntress's eyes darted from one pile of disturbed foliage to another. Each one indicated her prey had gone in a different direction. The huntress grinned when she discovered that there was no visible difference between the two. This was going to be a real challenge. Not that she was surprised. Her prey was incredibly clever.

Standing in between the two different paths, the huntress reached out with her senses. The Force wouldn't help her here. She had to rely solely on her natural instincts. It was the reason why she enjoyed chasing after this particular prey so much.

Well. One of the reasons.

Choosing a direction, the huntress sped through the woods. Despite her speed, her eyes missed nothing, and she was misled a total of three times before she picked up on the proper trail again. Marvelous. The last time, her prey had only managed to deceive her once.

The huntress's heart pounded as she followed the trail. This prey was very challenging and the reason for that was not solely due to cleverness. Rather, chasing this prey excited the huntress in ways that terrified her, shamed her. She was forced to summon every iota of discipline she possessed, as well as channel her desire to catch this prey. For she wanted to catch this prey more than anything. This prey would not escape her. She would chase this prey to the ends of the galaxy if she had to.

The huntress leaped onto a branch when she noticed that a vine looked somewhat out of place. She grabbed the vine and searched it for a telltale black hair, but there was none. Pride surged through her. Her prey never made the same mistake twice. But a different mistake on the other hand…

Bringing the vine to her nose, the huntress inhaled deeply, channeling the Force the amplify her senses. Sure enough, she picked up a very familiar, very sweet scent.

It wasn't much further.

The huntress leaped onto a high branch and jumped from tree to tree. She made not a whisper of sound or disturbed so much as a single leaf. She ran for over five minutes, and sure enough, she spotted her prey. Her prey was fast, but also meticulous, making sure to plant each foot on an area of ground that had as little mulch as possible.

For a long moment, the huntress just stared. The logical part of her reminded her that a good teacher never, ever deceived her student regarding progress. Her prey didn't know how close the huntress was, and now probably felt a false sense of security. The other part of her, which saw logic as nothing more than a semi-annoying fly that needed to be swatted, wanted to watch her prey for just a little while longer. Wanted to watch the sunlight reflect off that beautiful black hair, that lithe form run gracefully through the woods, those obsidian eyes narrowed and glittering with determination and focus.

The huntress gritted her teeth and struggled to calm a pounding heart that she had managed to convince herself was solely due to exertion during the first few chases. Without that delusion, she was helpless against an onslaught of self-loathing and desire. Both emotion broiled and clashed until they melded into full-blown hunger. The huntress stared at her prey, and felt everything else disappear.

_Mine._

The huntress jumped to another tree before leaping down. She flipped through the air and collided with her prey. Her prey went down hard on her stomach. Out of pure reflex, the huntress pinned her arms and legs. She had caught her prey.

_My prey. You're mine. You're all mine._

"How'd I do?" Harlene panted.

Aurra realized that she had been silent for a while.

"Better," she replied, and she was surprised at how calm she outwardly sounded. "You actually managed to fool me more than once."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well that's good." Brief pause. "Not that you aren't warm and cozy, but is there any chance you can let me up?"

Aurra froze, realizing the closeness of their proximity and feeling the impact of it. She had tried so hard to keep herself as physically distant from Harlene as she could over the past few weeks without arousing the girl's suspicion…but now they were…

Aurra felt a deep flush rise up in her face, but the horror she expected to feel never came. Instead for the first time she felt…satisfaction, comfort, and an unmistakable heat pooling in her blood.

My prey. Mine.

Leaning down enough so that her lips were an inch from Harlene's ear, she whispered, "Make me."

In a flash, Aurra was on her back, her limbs pinned down.

"Careful, killer. Just because I don't use any of my powers during our training sessions doesn't mean they aren't there."

Harlene's face loomed over her lips, sly, soft and smiling.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a low voice. She brought her head down even lower. "I know you don't like losing, but everyone loses sometimes. You can't win them all."

Calmly, the girl got up and dusted herself off. Then she noticed that Aurra was still sitting on the ground like an idiot. She held out her hand and Aurra took it without thinking, allowing herself to be pulled to her feet.

No horror. No terror. Not a shred of panic.

"Aurra, are you sure you're all right?" Harlene asked rather sharply. "I've respected your privacy, and I've tried very, very hard not to nag you, but you've been acting very strangely these past few weeks."

"I'm fine!" Aurra snapped. "I'm just…I—I-I'm proud of you."

Harlene's brow shot up. "Proud of me?"

Aurra hadn't meant to say that, but her mind had blanked upon feeling a surge of fear. Not of lust, but of Harlene finding out. So she blurted out the first thing…the first truth that came to mind.

"Of course," she continued, her voice carrying a defensive edge. "You don't even use your powers and yet you give me a run for my credits every time I track you. Why shouldn't I be proud of you?"

The question came out as a sharp demand, but Harlene smiled and put a hand on Aurra's arm.

"Well, I'm learning from one of the best, aren't I?"

The girl's hand was warm, gentle. Her touch stoked the fire in Aurra's blood, and still no panic followed. Why? What was wrong with her? Was she going insane? Was she becoming masochistic? Did she want Harlene to hurt her?

(Think for a moment, bounty hunter. Think about what you're thinking.)

Would Harlene hurt her? The girl who smiled at her, talked to her, cared for her, slept beside her? The girl who made her realize that the universe was not the crushing black void she once believed it to be? The girl who made her realize that happiness wasn't just a dream she was cursed to be forever deprived of?

"Aurra?"

No, you'd never hurt me, Aurra thought. You would never, ever hurt me.

"We've been at this for a while," she said at last. "And you're getting too good at it. You could probably keep me on the run forever if you used your powers. You need something more challenging."

"What do you have in mind?"

"How about a real hunt?" Aurra whispered. "One where there's real prey involved. I can look up the bounties that are currently available. It'll take a couple of days at most."

Harlene lit up. "Of course. I would love to go on a hunt with you. I just have one condition."

"Name it," Aurra said fervently.

The girl's eyes darkened. "I want to hunt scum, Aurra. Real scum."

_And I thought it was difficult not to kiss her before,_  Aurra thought dismally.

xXx

History was not Cody Harrington's favorite subject. And he vented his displeasure the way any normal twelve-year-old boy would: on his Twitter account during class.

"Child labor," frumpy Mr. Borger lectured the class, "was not officially ended nationwide until the Great Depression struck."

Outwardly, Cody's face was the embodiment of attention and respect to the knowledge his beloved educator was trying to pass onto him. The same could not be said for his fingers clutching his comm underneath his desk.

CaptainAwesomeO

History SUCK MY BALLSSSSSSSSS!

"In 1938, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed an act that placed limits on many forms of child labor. Does anyone know what this act is?"

CaptainAwesomeO

BOOgerman's asks 1st ?. KissAss Georgia will answer.

Sure enough, the hand of a curly-haired blonde girl with dimples shot up.

"Sir, it's the Fair Labor Standards Act, also known as the FLSA and the Wages and Hours Bill."

"Very good, Georgia."

Captain AwesomeO

KissAss Georgia gives 3 answers.

One of Cody's followers replied.

3? R u Fuckin' kidding me? U said she always gives no than 4! WTF?

Cody smirked.

"That's right class," Mr. Borger continued. "This child labor act has protected American youth from exploitation for more than a century. And now…" he paused dramatically. "We have recently discovered that our current administration has violated that act with the creation of the Error Correctors."

Cody's fingers rapidly moved across the pad.

CaptainAwesomeO

BOOgerman is now bitching about the Error Correctors.

That really pissed him off. Unfortunately, it also made him forget to pretend to look attentive.

"These once innocent children have been exploited by the government."

"Boooooo."

"Thank you for than input, Ms. York. You will have plenty of time to dwell on it during detention this evening with me."

CaptainAwesomeO

BOOgerman=smug bastard.

"Their minds were twisted at painfully young ages. They were trained to revere the government, to worship it. And now…Mr. Harrington, what are you doing?"

_Shit._  Cody schooled his features before looking up. "Nothing, sir."

Mr. Borger's eyes narrowed. "What are you hiding underneath that desk? Show it to me now, or you get detention along with Ms. York."

Cody grimaced, but did as he was told. He held up his comm. Mr. Borger snatched it out of his hand and held it up to his eye. The class held its breath.

"The child labor Wikipedia page," he mused. "Well, it's nice to know someone sees the value in extra studying." Before Cody could smirk, Mr. Borger continued. "It was clever of you to kill your Twitter page right away, Mr. Harrington, but you were not so clever as to wipe your recent history. So it appears you will be joining Ms. York this evening." He gave Cody back his comm before turning away in dismissal. "Don't pout, Mr. Harrington. You should be grateful I didn't see your recent Tweets, else you would have received a ten day suspension instead of detention."

Several classmates snickered. A few others looked sympathetic, but Cody ignored them all. The second the bell rang, he activated his comm and defiantly typed one last Tweet.

Error Correctors=most fuckin' awesome thing to ever happen to the USA.

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

**"Well, I'll be damned to the deepest hole in hell. A mental attack at the age of fourteen. Now I'm really angry that we can't bring the realm of the Force up on visual."**

**"Such is life. Harlene's testimony is satisfactory. And technically, she's eighteen."**

**"Her biological age is still fourteen. You were virtually older than her when you were able to do your first mental attack."**

**"It's a surprise. There are times when I loathe surprises, but this is a very, very pleasant surprise."**

**"Do you loathe the surprise that _Star Wars_  doesn't seem to have an end now?"**

**"It's merely something to contemplate and watch."**

**"How do you feel about her training?"**

**"I'm going to be upping it. Though she'll be under the impression I'm toning things down. Also, I'm going to have her start studying tactics extensively."**

**"Good idea. She's displaying phenomenal talent for politics, diplomacy, and manipulation, but we need to bring out the tactical genius in her."**

**"I'll give her some books to read when she gets out. Fortunately, her breakup with Rostu won't hinder her studies."**

**"She doesn't know it yet, but you saved her from a lot of guilt by convincing her to break up with him. Aurra seems to be getting over her fear. And fear or not, she is not one to not get what she wants. Neither is Maul."**

**"Maul still harbors fear toward his sexuality."**

**"But it won't last long. Your apprentice will make certain of that."**

**"If she wants them both, do you believe I'll have saved her from only some guilt?"**

**"I don't think so. She's an honorable girl, but she knows she doesn't owe Maul or Aurra a damn thing."**

xXx

"Aurra, you've been on there all day. It's not healthy to stare at a computer screen for that long. You probably have a blistering headache by now."

"I'll be done in a minute."

"Hate to break it to you, but that line only works on super-gullible parents."

Aurra pursed her lips. "You want to hunt real scum, so that's what I'm trying to find."

"And when did I say you had to risk your health to find it?"

"Harlene," Aurra said through gritted teeth. "When I say I'll be done in a minute, I'll be done in a minute."

She heard the girl walk up beside her. Aurra barely had time to look over a bounty posted by Jabba when the screen went blank.

"Hey!"

She rounded furiously on Harlene who stared at her with cool, unfazed eyes.

"That was one minute."

Aurra broke her gaze, but only so she wouldn't see her fatigue. Now that the computer was off, green lights were popping mercilessly in front of her eyes. Before she could get up and make an excuse to leave the room, two fingers settled themselves on either side of her temples and began a slow, soothing massage. Aurra groaned in relief before she could stop herself.

"Just relax," Harlene whispered.

Aurra's muscles obediently melted under their girl's ministrations. Her fingers continued to rub around her temples and eyes before proceeding to the back of her neck and then her shoulders. The sensations themselves were pure ecstasy, but they weren't to blame for the sudden tightness in her throat. There was such care in Harlene's touch, such consideration. The girl only wanted to ease her pain. That was all. There was not a single ulterior motivation.

"You'd better stop," Aurra said, trying and failing not to moan when Harlene hit a particularly sensitive area. "I mean it, Harlene. My reputation will be—ahh—damaged beyond repair if—hmm—I fall asleep."

"But there's no one here but me," Harlene said softly. "And I always keep your secrets."

Despite her words, she did stop. But instead of moving away, she wrapped her arms around Aurra's shoulders and pressed their cheeks together. "Do you want me to leave now?"

After Aurra realized her shameful desire, she had refused point-blank to sleep with Harlene, fearful that her treacherous body would torment her throughout the night. On the other hand, she hadn't slept a wink since then. While the Force could keep her movements and thought processes at their peak (not to mention she possessed her father's highly endurant physiology), she couldn't pretend she wasn't exhausted. Her body would start deteriorating if she continued to be stubborn and Harlene couldn't afford that. The girl was counting on her to teach her advanced stealth and hunting techniques so her idiot government bosses would stop being stupid and let her fight in their army.

She had to sleep. But Harlene couldn't leave. The thought of her leaving caused her to grip the girl's arm out of panic and anger.

"You'd better not."

In return, Harlene gripped Aurra's arms, not enough to hurt her, but to remind her of her impossible strength.

"I'm not a child anymore, Aurra." Her voice was low, but contained a deep warning. "I very rarely respond well to orders and or threats, but polite requests are an entirely different matter."

Violent rage made Aurra want to shriek and thrash. Years ago, the fury would have consumed her, and she would have given in without a shred of regret. That this miserable sanctimonious brat would  _dare_  try to tell her what to do…

The fury was a black wave of impossible strength, yet this time it did not overcome her. And the reason for that was because it now had to contend with a light of reason that was thin and scarce, but of equal strength. Aurra kept still and breathed deeply. Harlene continued to hold her arms, not to keep her down, but to help her focus. Several moments later, Aurra's grip on Harlene's arm loosened.

"Stay with me? Please?"

Harlene let go of her arms, embracing her instead.

"I'll always stay with you."

Normally, Aurra loathed any form of physical weakness, but now she was very grateful for her exhaustion. For the first time in weeks, Harlene would be sleeping beside her. Though she no longer feared the girl hurting her that way, she was still fearful and ashamed of her desire and wasn't at all sure what she should do about it. Her exhaustion would ensure that the girl's proximity wouldn't arouse her.

After a short shower, Aurra made her way to her quarters and found Harlene already lying on the bed. Her body and soul ached at the sight of her, but this time for tenderness, companionship, and warmth instead of lust. She climbed into the bed and laid down. Harlene snuggled against her side. Aurra slowly ran her fingers through silky black hair.

"Have you slept at all?"

Aurra paused before answering, "No." When Harlene didn't rebuke her, she added, "I can't sleep anymore unless you're with me."

She braced herself for questions. Instead, Harlene sighed sadly.

"I wish you would tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong," Aurra said quickly. "I promise, it's just…it's complicated, all right? I'll talk to you about it when I'm ready."

"Okay."

The trust in Harlene's voice was unmistakable. She had utter faith that Aurra would talk to her soon.

It was easy to remember a time when Aurra would have happily taken her own life before putting unconditional faith in another being, or believing that another being would have unconditional faith in her. The closest thing to trust she had ever been shown was by business associates. And they never trusted in her. No. They just trusted in the fact that she wouldn't kill them so long as they were appropriately useful to her.

Harlene's breathing grew deeper. Aurra ran her long fingers down the girl's smooth arm. Had they only been sleeping together for a few months? Had it only been a few months since the loneliness simply became too much to bear?

Aurra closed her eyes as the memories came flooding back. A year ago, her trust in Harlene and her need for the girl's presence had grown to the point where she allowed her to sleep on the ship. At first, Aurra thought it had been a disastrous mistake. Lying on her cot with Harlene only a few feet away made the ache for the girl's warmth all the more potent. After months, it nearly drove her mad. Harlene noticed of course.

_Aurra leading the girl to her quarters, her arm around her shoulders. It's going to be nearly impossible to leave her, but she has to._

_Harlene sits down on her cot. Aurra embraces her, greedily drinking in the sensations. She presses their foreheads together._

_"Goodnight," she whispers, but doesn't move away. Her grip on the girl tightens._

_I have to let her go,_ she desperately thinks. _I have to. I have to let her go._

_Finally, she does. Her hands linger on Harlene's for a long moment, but she finally steps back. Harlene looks at her with a concerned expression. Aurra abruptly turns on her heel and begins to walk away, knowing it's going to be a torturous night._

_"Aurra?"_

_She stops and turns around before the girl even finishes saying her name. Hope surges through her combined with fear._

_Harlene gets up and cautiously walks up to her. Cold logic tries to warn Aurra, but the power of its voice has been gravely weakened. It's no match for Harlene's hand on her face, or her gentle, understanding smile._

_"Is this really where you want me to be tonight?" she whispers._

_A minute later, Aurra is lying on her back on a comfortable bed, Harlene nestled against her side._

Aurra's eyes opened. Such a sweet memory. A beautiful light in the bleak darkness. She glanced down at Harlene. The girl had fallen asleep. She always fell asleep right away. It had always taken Aurra three-quarters of the night or more to fall asleep.

But not that time. The girl's warmth had lulled her into a slumber in less than an hour. In the middle of the night, she had woken with a gasp, very aware of the warm weight against her side. Panic had surged through her. Panic and rage. Someone was sleeping next to her. Someone could kill her while she lay there, helpless. How could she have allowed this to happen? How could she submit to such weakness? She was Aurra Sing, the most feared and hated bounty hunter in the entire galaxy. She was the nightmare of the Jedi. She haunted the dreams of all Padawans. She was an entity of vengeance and hatred. She needed no one, and she was  _not weak._

Aurra had raised her elbow, preparing to plow it into Harlene's face and knock her to the floor…

…then Harlene stirred. Her cheek gently nuzzled Aurra's breast, and she sighed peacefully before going back to sleeping soundly.

Aurra's elbow had hung in the air, frozen. Her eyes locked onto Harlene's soft expression. The girl was fast asleep against a deadly bounty hunter who had tried to kill her many times before. She could not be more vulnerable. She had to know Aurra could do anything to her in such a compromised position, and yet…she placed herself in it all on her own free will. Why? How could anyone with a shred of intelligence or common sense do such a thing…?

And then it hit Aurra.

Harlene trusted her.

She knew how vulnerable she would be. She knew Aurra could hurt or kill her. She knew it…and trusted that Aurra wouldn't.

The realization was so overwhelming it was almost suffocating.

True, the girl was a weakness no sane bounty hunter could ever afford. True, she was so close to Aurra that she could betray her in any way possible. But Aurra could very easily betray her as well.

_And I nearly did,_  Aurra thought as she was brought back to the present. Her finger threaded through silky hair once again.  _And I know you would have forgiven me. But I wouldn't have forgiven you._

"I'm sorry," she whispered, but the apology only worsened the tightness in her throat.

xXx

Cody tried his best not to scowl as he cleaned out his locker, lest someone see him. People, especially adults and older kids, told him he looked extremely cute when he scowled. God, that was embarrassing. More than embarrassing: it was an affront to his manhood. How would George Hansen, or Terrance Lane, or any of the other dumb jocks like it if someone told them they looked cute when they scowled? Cody hoped Terrance would get a date with sexy, but dim-witted Jenny Frazier, whom he had been ogling for months now. She would tell him he looked adorable when he scowled in front of all his teammates!

Cody fantasized a scenario like that and it made him grin.

"Smirk while you can, twerp," a tall, blonde girl of sixteen said. "I haven't called Mom yet about your detention."

Grimacing, Cody stuffed a datapad containing his science textbook in his backpack. "Yeah, Kayla, I know, you wanna savor the moment like fresh pot," he muttered.

His older sister smacked the back of his head lightly. "That was one time and you know it. And you promised not to tell."

"Did I?"

Kayla glared murderously at him. "You did."

Cody winced. He wasn't stupid enough to believe he could get away with that kind of blackmail. His sister would make sure his fifteen minutes of satisfaction ended with his ass getting bitten off.

He shuffled his feet and looked pleadingly at her. "Can you get me after he lets me go?"

Being cute did have its advantages at times. Maybe he and Kayla weren't the best of friends, but it was very difficult for her to resist a pathetic plea from a child, kitten, or puppy.

Sure enough, she sighed.

"Yeah, I can stay in the computer lab for a couple of hours without going insane."

He grinned. "Thanks!"

She pinched his nose and smirked when he squealed. "You're welcome."

xXx

Bounty hunters who wished to remain among the living always slept with one eye open and never gave themselves over to the lethargy felt upon awakening. Alertness was never less than crucial. Only those who chose mild professions could afford to feel safe twenty-four hours a day.

_Get up. Get up, now._

_Don't want to,_  Aurra thought. Her arms tightened around the warm body she was clutching.

_Weakness._

_Don't care,_  she protested.

_You're not safe. You will never be safe._

_Yes, I will. I am._

_You're not safe._

_Yes._

_You're alone. Always alone._

_No. No…_

"Aurra?"

_The Dark Woman dragging her by the wrist. Her hand is always as hard as her grip. Seven-year-old Aurra struggles with all her might._

_"Let me go, you schutta!"_

_She is ignored. Aurra screams and starts yelling every obscenity she can possibly think of. But what her voice is screaming is a stark contrast of what her mind_

(Look at me! Look at me! Look at me!)

_is screaming._

_A door is opened and Aurra is yanked into a room that is very small and very poorly lit. The door closes and Aurra can barely make out the Dark Woman's icy, disapproving face. Aurra stares at her, breathing harshly. Her anger is further amplified when she reaches into the Force and can only find cold serenity surrounding her mentor._

_The silence is thick and cloying. Aurra's gaze doesn't move, and she doesn't speak, determined to win this battle of wills. But it becomes too much when it begins to feel like she's trapped in a room with a soulless statue._

_"It was mine," Aurra seethes. "I found it. It was_ mine."

_"A Jedi has no possessions or attachments," is the curt reply. "You know this. You've known it for years, yet you refuse to accept it."_

_"It was mine!" Aurra shrieks. "It was my rock! Mine! Not his!"_

_"Not only did you form a strong attachment to an insignificant object, you injured a fellow Padawan when he took it from you."_

_"He deserved it! It was my rock!"_

_Long pause. Then the Dark Woman reaches into her cloak and holds out a small object. It telekinetically floats to Aurra who grabs it out of the air. Her eyes widen when she sees it is the rock she found three days ago. So pretty and shiny. She looks up at the Dark Woman in shock._

_"A Jedi's life revolves around the Force, Nashtah," her mentors says. "Not the self. I knew there was a darkness in you from the day I found you, and the strength of it has become clear. Time and again you allow it to surface. It has not consumed you, but it will if you continue to walk the path you walk now." Dark eyes narrow. "Your emotions are not as volatile as before. You are pleased you have your possession back?"_

_Aurra grins, knowing her answer will darken the scowl on her teacher's face._

_"Yes," she says fervently._

_"You will not give it up?"_

_"Never!"_

_The Dark Woman nods grimly. "So be it." She turns around and walks to the door. "Stay with your possession, and discover the fulfillment of the dark side."_

_The door opens. Terror floods Aurra when she realizes what's happening. She runs to the door, but it has already closed, her teacher gone. Aurra slams into the door, but doesn't feel the impact. She howls and beats her fists against solid transparisteel._

_"NOOOO! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!"_

"Aurra, wake up! Wake up!"

With a yell, she did. Immediately, the arms around her tightened, and a voice whispered in her ear.

"Shhh, shhh, don't worry, you're safe. It's okay. You're all right. Aurra, it's me. It's Harlene. Don't be afraid. You're safe. You're safe with me."

Harlene.

"Whatever you saw…whatever you relived…it's over now."

Harlene.

"You're safe."

Harlene.

When the howling winds began to die down, the first thing Aurra noticed was that their sleeping positions had changed. She was pressed against the girl's front, her face buried on her neck. Harlene continued to murmur soothing nonsense to her, but the breath vanished from her lungs when the girl began to stroke her back. It quickly became apparent that her shirt had ridden up considerably during the night. Her chest was still covered, bless the Force, but her midriff was completely exposed. And being that her shirt possessed very thin straps and dipped past her shoulder blades, her back was practically bare. Harlene's hand, however, moved behind Aurra's waist without a shred of hesitation.

Logically, this particular touch should not have invoked feelings much greater than before. This was far from the first time Harlene had touched her bare skin and when she did, it was never in a sexual place or manner. This time was no different.

Logically.

Harlene's hand moved gently up and down Aurra's back, and it wasn't long before her touch grew much lighter. Her fingers softly brushed Aurra's lower back, and Aurra released a breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Her entire body shuddered violently, but this did not discourage the girl from what she was doing. Quite the contrary, Aurra's reaction only seemed to encourage her. She began to alternate between simple palm caresses and tracing patterns on Aurra's back with her fingertips. Aurra gripped the girl more tightly as a red haze settled over her vision. A red haze that was not dark and cloying like the burned blood that splattered the ground when an enemy met their end at the hand of her blade. It was lighter. Warm. And pleasant. So very, very pleasant.

_God, what are you doing to me?_

Two fingertips settled between her shoulder blades.

_I don't care._

They slowly…slowly…travelled down her spine.

_Just don't you dare stop._

BEEP! BEEP—BEEP!

"AURRA!"

Her head snapped around. Harlene was sitting up on the bed, staring at her with alarmed eyes. In contrast, Aurra was on her feet in a fighter's stance, her left hand clutching a dagger.

"I…I think it's just your commlink." Harlene pointed a hesitant finger at said device lying by the computer without taking her eyes off Aurra.

Panting, Aurra glanced at the dagger in her hand and then back at Harlene. Clenching her jaw, she sheathed the weapon before snatching up her comm and playing the message.

It was brief, but it told her want she wanted to hear. The satisfaction somewhat calmed her still ringing nerves.

"Looks like our scum is just around the corner," she whispered.

"Who was that?"

"A business associate," Aurra replied. She put the commlink down and turned around to face Harlene. "One that I turn to if I want…extra edgy prey. Fee's pretty up there, but it's always worth it."

But Harlene didn't appear pleased. She was staring at Aurra with an unreadable expression. Suddenly remembering her state of undress, she quickly pushed the material of her shirt down. Harlene blinked and looked away.

"Where is this associate?" she asked, keeping her gaze fixed on a spot on the bed.

Taking a deep breath would help calm her further, but Aurra knew it would also betray her agitation. She crossed her arms and gripped her elbows.

"Nar Shadda. We should be there in the next day. Day and a half tops."

Harlene nodded, still not looking at her and rose from the bed. Her attire changed to that of a warrior. "In that case, I'll leave. I'm overdue for a meeting."

Aurra reached out without thinking. "Harlene, I—"

The girl looked up. Their eyes met, and they knew one another.

"I'll see you later, Aurra."

She disappeared. Aurra made it to her desk chair before her legs collapsed from under her.

xXx

While it was a great relief to be able to properly channel the Force once again, the dark side even more so, Maul soon realized he had to make a major adjustment to his technique when he meditated: he had to severely limit his thoughts of Harlene. In the past, the girl had served as an ideal magnet for the dark side, but he no longer hated her and dwelling on lust only resulted in feelings of guilt and shame that made him want to tear his own skull apart. And then there was the fear of her abandonment, which was a genuine threat to his sanity. Only focusing on the image of her as the goddess of darkness she would become assisted him, but even that was quickly becoming tainted with memories of her warmth, how gentle her voice could be when she spoke, her reassurances that she would always be with him, those smiles that seemed to go on forever, and those soft lips against his cheek.

Inevitably, such memories brought on feelings that poisoned the very essence of the dark side. Feelings of comfort, contentment, almost…peaceful…

_(There is no emotion. There is peace.)_

Such realizations were what helped to provide him with salvation within the dark side. Self-loathing was a novel emotion to experience, but it was more than powerful enough. He needed to feel hatred. What that hatred was directed toward was irrelevant. So long as he hated he would always be Sith. And it wasn't just himself. He hated Anakin Skywalker for his merciless taunting and incessantly plaguing his nightmares— _Harlene cares for him, he is more to her than I am—_ the Jedi for violating his mind, attempting to turn him into what he most hated, and simply for being Jedi— _Harlene's heroes, she worships them, tried to take her away from me, injured her, tortured her, what are they doing to you, try it Jedi, try it, I dare you to try and take away what is mine—_

Emotions whirling, brewing. Mixing with his hatred, making it impure. He needed hatred, pure hatred, he could not survive without it. Hatred, pure, undiluted hatred—

-at himself.

He hated himself, and the hatred was pure. He couldn't focus on anything else, lest it become tainted. So that was what he did. And it worked. The dark side flowed freely through him.

Emerging from his second meditation of the day, he stood and made to go to the training area when he saw a dark figure out of the corner of his eye.

"Oh. Hey. I was going to join you, but if you're done…"

She trailed off looking slightly uncomfortable. Maul drank in the sight of her for a moment before kneeling. It felt strange to do so for he had believed for a while that this moment would not come for years, but it passed quickly. There was absolutely no doubt regarding his allegiances.

"My master," he uttered and reveled in the rightness of the word. "What do you wish of your ser—?"

Before he could get the last syllable out, he found himself on his feet, strong hands wrapped around his upper arms in a gentle but firm grip.

"Maul," she said, seriousness permeating through every word. "Don't _ever_  do that again."

Confusion swept through him. Perhaps she did not outright accept his oath when he swore it, but she hadn't denied it either. Or perhaps she was denying it now. Did she believe him unworthy?

Just as his confusion began to morph into anger and humiliation, her expression softened and she closed her eyes, as if becoming aware that she had just committed an error.

"Listen to me," she said, putting her hands on either side of his face. "You did absolutely nothing wrong, but please, I'm asking you, don't ever do that again."

She embraced him, momentarily distracting him from further inevitable confusion. If he did not err, then why did she not wish him to bow to her as he should and address her for what she was? Her arms tightened, and he decided to put the matter aside for the time being. At least she was not rejecting him.

"Now then," she said after pulling away. "I think it's high time you and I had a talk."

He blinked. "Talk?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "You and I need to have a discussion."

She waved her right hand and two comfortable looking chairs appeared, each one facing the other. Harlene sat in one. After a moment, Maul occupied the other. Harlene crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knees. Her posture was ramrod straight.

"Maul, I'm going to say this right now in the simplest of terms so that there are no questions regarding my meaning: I am not your master, I have never been your master, and I never will be your master. Are we absolutely, positively clear on that?"

Her expression was once again filled with that deadly seriousness, which terrified and infuriated him almost as much as her words did.

She was denying him. She believed him to be unworthy. And that was something he was incapable of accepting.

"What must I do then?" he demanded in a desperate hiss. "I have sworn my oath. I am yours to command. What must I do to prove myself worthy to you?"

She smiled. "Those are questions you would ask your master, Maul. And what did I just say?" Before he could reply, she continued. "You claim you would do anything I asked. What if I asked you to embrace the Jedi lore?"

Maul felt his lungs freeze. Harlene's smile widened.

"Well?"

_My master. I must obey…_

_Jedi scum._

_Must obey…_

Harlene leaned forward. "Say it, Maul," she whispered.

_Must obey…_

_Sanctimonious, self-righteous…_

"Say it."

_…Jedi…_

"Say it."

_Scum._

"No."

He practically had to yank the word out of his mouth, but Harlene's responding grin overflowed with triumph.

"Face it, Maul. Neither of us would thrive in a master-slave relationship. Oh, we do infuriate each other constantly, but I would take that over blind subservience any day. If I say or do anything that you think is wrong, wrong, wrong, then by God, fight me tooth and nail every step of the way. Of course, that's not to say I hope there will come a time where we'll be able to have calm, civilized discussions in the future," she added. "Because I do. But that will come later, with time and patience. You have a remarkable spirit, Maul. It's one of the things that I always admired about you. And I know how deeply you admire mine. Remember that you said you would never want me to be your slave?"

"That is different," he insisted. "You are stronger than I am, more powerful."

"And power is all that matters?"

"Yes."

"You hesitated for a split second. We've had this conversation before, but you've never hesitated to answer in the affirmative." Her voice hardened. "Because you know it's not. Don't you dare deny it, Maul. You know damn well it's not. You've known it for a while now. How can you lay your head on my breast and hold me while you sleep and still retain that delusion? How, Maul?"

Fury was building up in his hearts, but it was helpless fury. She was right. Her physical proximity did not feed his hatred, and if he were completely honest with himself, it never had. It soothed him. Calmed him. Tainted his hatred. But he needed it so. He could not give it up.

"That wasn't a rhetorical question," Harlene said sharply. "How can you still retain that delusion?"

Maul gritted his teeth. "I am a flawed Sith. But I can bear that so long as I can focus the dark side."

"Then you admit you need me?"

"Yes."

"Not because I feed your power?"

"Yes."

"Because you take genuine comfort in the way I touch you and treat you?"

"Yes."

"You'll die without me?"

"Yes!"

"Then you're not Sith."

She had said as much before, but never in such a flat tone that broke no argument. Something in her had changed. And it frightened him more than he would admit.

"I am Sith," he snarled. "I embrace the dark side. I breathe it, it bows to my will. I live it."

"No," Harlene said. "A Dark Jedi also lives and breathes the dark side of the Force. What's the difference between a Dark Jedi and a Sith?"

"We possess not a shred of light. Fear is a weapon we use, but we have no fear for ourselves. Our hatred is unending. We do not possess the fatal flaw of compassion. We crush the weak—"

"No!" she snapped. "You're still describing a Dark Jedi. Any Force-sensitive can fully embrace the dark side, even if they can't focus the amount of raw power a trained Force-user can. And I've encountered plenty who have unending hatred, who aren't afraid for their lives, who feel no compassion. But they aren't Sith, are they? Because there are only two Sith, right? So what's the difference between them and a Sith?"

"Sith are masters of the dark side—"

"Are you a master of the dark side?"

"Yes!"

"Could you defeat Sidious?"

"He is more powerful than I could ever hope to be. I could never defeat him."

"Really? That sounds rather strange. I mean a master of the dark side should at least be able to hold his own against another master of the dark side."

"I was still his apprentice when my first life ended, but he still proclaimed me Dark Lord of the Sith after I passed my trials."

"Ah, yes, your trials," she said in a soft voice. "You nearly killed Sidious at the end of them, didn't you?"

"Yes," he said through gritted teeth.

"Then you didn't pass your trials. At least not the trials of a Sith." She leaned forward. "My superiors have access to all the information this dimension has to offer, and I've been reading quite a bit of Sith lore. I know the true trial an acolyte of the dark side must pass to become Sith. I can tell you it right now. In the eyes of the ancient Dark Lords, you could become Sith right this moment. You have everything you need. You just need to do this one thing."

Maul was on his feet before he knew it. "What?" he demanded, desperation coursing through him. "What is it? What must I do?"

Harlene stood up and in a single step, crossed the distance between them. She pointed to his side. "Take your saber."

He did.

"Concentrate on your desire to be a true Sith."

He did.

"Feel the desire burn in you."

He did.

"Press the emitter of your weapon against my heart."

He did.

"Put your thumb over the activation plate."

He did.

"Now press it."

He didn't.

Harlene's eyes narrowed. "Press it, Maul."

He stared at her incredulously. Furiously. "What game is this?" he hissed.

"No game, Maul. This is the trial that you must pass. Becoming a Sith demands the sacrifice of a life that matters to you. You confirmed that I matter to you. So kill me, and your desire will be fulfilled."

He wanted to call her a liar, but how could he when Lord Sidious himself had confirmed her claim all those years ago when he goaded Maul into nearly…

"I have passed this trial." He willed his voice not to shake. "My former master fed my rage. Throughout my entire existence I never…but in that one moment…" He clenched his teeth so hard his gums hurt. "I could have killed him. I  _would_  have killed him!"

"But you didn't," Harlene said in a low voice. "It doesn't matter how much you wanted to. You  _didn't_ , Maul. You didn't pass the trials of a true Sith. In the eyes of the Dark Lords you never will be Sith unless you press that button now."

She made it sound so easy. So ruthlessly, impossibly easy. All he had to do was press a button and there would be no more torment, no doubt, no self-loathing. Finally, he would be able to direct his hatred to where it should rightfully be, and it would be pure, untainted. He wanted nothing more than to effortlessly channel the power of his hatred, which had once been so raw and pure.

His gaze flickered from the choice that lay within his hand to the face of the girl he once hated. The girl he should still hate. He once hated her more than the Jedi, and that hatred should still be there. Her crimes against him were now far greater than causing him such wretched confusion. It was her fault he could no longer channel the dark side as he once did. It was her fault he suffered so. He needed to kill her. Not only did she deserve to die, but it would be the ultimate justice. In killing her, he would have his revenge and his identity as a true Sith would be secure. Forever. It was what he wanted, what he needed.

His thumb lightly pressed against the activation plate, while his eyes remained locked on Harlene's.

_Hate her,_  Lord Sidious whispered in his mind.  _Hate her, and there is nothing you will not be able to do. Look into her eyes, Lord Maul. Reveal her weakness, her deception. She believes you a coward. She knows she is safe. She preys on your need. She is only mocking you._

"You lie." He hurled the accusation at her like an arrow. "You cannot be killed."

"Not in the true dimension. Here? In this bubble?" She shrugged. "I honestly don't know. As we have both seen, bubbles are quite fickle. The usual rules don't apply here. The only way to find out would be to press that button."

A snarl welled up in Maul's throat as he hunted in her eyes for weakness, deception, mockery.

But there was only acceptance. And it stunned him so much, he could no longer keep his hand from shaking. She was offering herself to him, offering to grant him his hearts' desire. Offering her life so he could be Sith.

_(I respect you, I admire you, I care for you, and I'd do just about anything for you.)_

He pictured it in his mind. Pressing the activation plate. Fire and plasma tunneling a fatal hole through her sternum. The light fading from her eyes before her corpse hit the floor with a dull thud. And even in an imagined scenario, he knew how he would feel, standing over her body, the title of a Sith secure in his soul.

Emptiness.

The same emptiness he felt the first two times she left him, only this time it would be amplified a thousand-fold. The screams of the silence would become raging howls. If he killed her, he would gain his title, and the price would be his sanity and the dark side—the  _Force_  itself.

Never.

Without taking his eyes off Harlene, Darth Maul hurled his weapon away.

"No," he grated out. He grabbed her face, gently but desperately.  _"No,"_  he repeated.

She smiled, but his hearts nearly stopped when he saw what was shining in her eyes.

Respect.

Pure, wondrous, respect.

"I always knew you were better than that," she said. Her own hands came up to hold his face. "You were never meant to be Sith, Maul. You wouldn't want to be Sith. Before her death, Darth Traya told the Jedi Exile many important things, and perhaps the most important thing she told her was that the true Sith is nothing more than a belief. The belief that you are the only person that matters: your ideas, your well-being, your goals, your fulfillment, and that everything and everyone else is just a tool for you to exploit for your own ends."

"I…"

He could get no further than that. The elation he had felt upon seeing Harlene's respect was now but a memory, replaced by something that was as excruciating as the violation of the Jedi's invasion of his mind. No. It was even more excruciating. The Jedi had failed in their theft of his soul. This… _thing_ …was not failing. It was succeeding, and at a rapid rate.

And the one responsible continued without a shred of mercy.

"You know it's true. A Sith's ultimate goal is power, Maul." Her voice seemed to feed off his pain. "Not for the benefit of others, but for the self. A Sith apprentice strives to learn everything they can from their master. Why? Because after they gain that power, then the master is no longer useful. The  _tool_  has served its  _purpose._  Sith apprentices are required to kill their masters. But you never once contemplated killing Sidious before he broke you down during your so-called trials. He was never a tool to you. He was your entire universe."

_I am Sith. I am SITH. I AM SITH!_

"And me. I went from being an enemy to be loathed, to a possession to be desired, but I was never just a possession or you never would have given me that lightsaber. You never even viewed other sentient beings as just objects to be discarded if they got in the way. A Sith not only would have believed me instantly if I told him his master was controlling death camps on Naboo, he would have shrugged it off instantly. But you? You accused me of lying."

_Sith. I am Sith. I am…_

"Now here we are with you wanting me to be your master, and not because you want to take my power and eventually overthrow me. You want me to be better than you. You want us to be together forever. But to be Sith is to be alone."

_I am…I am…_

"You're not Sith, Maul."

_I am…_

"You never were."

_I am…_

"You renounced the title because you knew what it would cost you. Now you need to renounce the identity because you know it's a lie."

_I am…_

But there was no answer. There was only the void. Hungrier and emptier than ever. The sight of it robbed him of his ability to stand, and to breathe. But it didn't take his ability to feel. He felt the arms that caught him and gently lowered him onto his chair, which suddenly morphed into a sofa. He felt the hand that cupped his cheek.

"You know it's a lie. I'm so sorry, Maul. I know it's hard. But you have to know it's a lie."

Hungry…empty…waiting…

_There is my answer._

"I am nothing."

"No." Her voice was so vehement that he looked up against his will. Her eyes were blazing as she grabbed his face. "You are not nothing. You may not know who you are, but you are  _not_  nothing." She hissed the last word. "And if you ever utter such blasphemy again, I  _will_  make you pay."

He blinked, remembering those were the very words he had spoken to her when she called herself a coward. However, they proved to have the opposite effect on Maul.

"Then what am I?" he half demanded, half-begged.  _"What am I?"_

She grasped his hands, staring hard at him. "I wouldn't give you that answer even if I could. I may ease your suffering, but I would also be depriving you of the greatest journey life has to offer. You're alive, Maul, and you were supposed to be dead. And no matter what higher power is responsible, that alone should tell you that you are not nothing. You have your life, Maul. Now what are you going to do?"

He gaped at her in wordless outrage. "What will I do? What  _can_  I do? In refusing to be my master, you damn me to a life without guidance, direction, and purpose. I have nothing. I am nothing! You have wasted your time with this _talk_ , Harlene." He sneered. "Unless, of course, your intent all along was to destroy me. If so, then you have succeeded."

In a flash, she was on top of him, her hands gripping his throat.

"By God, I can't tell you how much I regret the slack I cut you when I was eleven," she seethed. "And I regret that I continued after you came back even more. But that's it, Maul. I may have a reasonably long fuse, but there's a limit to how far I will wade in your bullshit before I shove it back up your ass where it rightfully belongs. Wake  _up_ , little boy. You aren't destroyed, you're free from a lie and a destructive one at that! Yes, freedom must be a terrifying concept to you, yes, the loss of your identity must be agonizing, but I'm still here, Maul. I'm not your master, but I'm here. Look at me." Her hands loosened, and her face was suddenly looming over his. "If you just wanted a master to give you guidance, direction, and purpose, you would embrace the Jedi lore if I told you to. But you want something more. You want to know who you are. You want to find your way. Right? Right!"

"Yes," he choked out.

"Do you have any idea where to start?"

"No!"

He expected her to be enraged, disappointed, disgusted. He wouldn't have even been surprised if she broke his neck right then and there.

Instead, she smiled, and released him.

"Then I'll help you." In response to his astonishment, she continued. "I'm won't be your master, but I will be your teacher, your companion, your protector, your friend, your equal. Can you accept that, Maul?"

It was a fair question, especially since nearly all of those titles had been foreign concepts to him before he met her. And he still didn't truly know what they meant, especially the word 'friend.' That was a word neither of them had ever associated with their relationship, though he was certain the deep fondness he felt for her was mutual.

_Good,_  Lord Sidious hissed in his mind.  _Accept her offer, and your weakness. You will never be Sith._

But Harlene was right. He was not Sith. He never had been, and while the agony of that loss was festering in his soul, it was almost bearable when he looked at her. When he touched her face, he knew that it would not last forever. This girl…this young woman who had seen him broken so many times had never looked at him with disgust, or worse, pity. She soothed his fears while at the same time constantly insisting that he could be strong, that he was not nothing. If he had ever displayed such weakness to Lord Sidious, his former master would have destroyed him and pretended he had never existed.

But not Harlene. She cared for him, had faith in him. And while the latter humbled him deeply, he then realized that accepting her offer could come at a great cost.

"I need the dark side, Harlene." He tried to keep his voice controlled. "I need to feel hatred. Pure hatred. Please. You cannot take that from me."

She actually chuckled. "You actually think I would? Me? Maul, that would be the embodiment of self-righteous hypocrisy. How can I forbid you from feeling hatred when I fully embrace mine?"

"You also embrace compassion. And compassion will always taint your hatred. It will never be pure."

Her face darkened. "I'll be sure to rip  _that_  delusion away soon enough. In the meantime, I find myself a bit confused. I thought I fed your hatred. You've said as much. Are you afraid I'll force my views on you? Because if you are, you should know that that falls into the category of being your master."

"That is not what I…"

He trailed off, knowing he could not tell her. If she discovered the only source of pure hatred he had left, she would try to take it from him. And he knew she would succeed.

Just as he was attempting to produce an adequate lie, understanding dawned on her face.

"Maul." Her voice was very soft. "Do you feel something for me that's making your hate impure?" He must have looked terrified, for she immediately took his face in her hands. "Hey. It's all right. Maul, I promise you that I'm not going to try to take your hatred or pollute it. Pure hatred can be an incredibly effective weapon, and yes, I have felt it many, many times. Please, talk to me. Trust me. Let me help."

Her voice was low and compelling and her eyes seemed to swallow him up. Maul felt his mouth move all on its own accord.

"I feel many things for you. So many things. And all of it poisons my hate. I think of the Jedi, and your loyalty to them ignites the fear I can no longer channel. Even when they had you and I did not have the slightest idea what they were…doing to you…I felt a fear I have never felt before, and it polluted my hate. Anakin Skywalker torments me in my nightmares, and just as I am beginning to focus the hate, I remember that he means more to you than I. That you would choose him over me. I think of you, and the contentment…the comfort I feel when you touch me, when you smile at me…that banishes the hatred in an instant. I cannot even think about how much I desire you, how much I long to feel you against me, to be inside you…" His hands trailed up her arms, her shoulders. When he reached her neck, he caressed her soft, bare skin for a moment before putting his hands on either side of her head. Suddenly he was very aware that she was directly on top of him, so very close to him. And she wasn't quite straddling his hips, but still…

"Such a base desire would focus the dark side, but I am denied even that." He tightened his grip on her face. "I cannot forget the shame I felt after you…" He could feel his body begin to react to her proximity. In his panic, he would have thrown her off him, but she moved away quickly. Just as the humiliation of what he had just confessed was about to overwhelm him, she was by his side once again.

"Well, it looks like fear is no longer your ally," she remarked.

"It can be," he insisted. "I may not be a true Sith, but I am not renouncing my Sith heritage in its entirety."

"Fear can be useful, but your fear is a mind-killer." She took his hand. "But can you say that particular fear is as strong as it was before this talk?"

He stared at her incredulously. He had just learned his identity had been a lie and that said identity meant that he would either have to kill Harlene or view her as a tool (which was blasphemy in and of itself), and now she was asking if he was less afraid? He opened his mouth, fully intending to question her intelligence and her sanity, but before he could get so much as a syllable out, his mouth closed with an audible click when he realized something.

He wasn't as afraid.

Granted, the fear was still there, reminding him of the void and of his loss, but…

Harlene smiled and tenderly stroked his cheek.

"I'm not going anywhere, Maul. After everything that's happened between us, I know I wouldn't be able to go anywhere. So you're stuck with me forever." She put her face close to his and smiled. "I suggest you get used to it."

Maul stared at her. Her smiled faded and she pulled away. "As for your sexual feelings for me…Maul…" Her expression grew desperate. "I made a horrible mistake, accusing you of something I knew you would never intentionally do, and I can't tell you how sorry I am for what you suffered because of it. Please don't be ashamed of what you feel for me. I'm certainly not ashamed of what I feel for you. I still want to wait, but we'll go that far when we're ready, on our own time."

Maul found he was more relieved than disappointed. Deep down he knew, like her, that his shame was unnecessary, yet it still arose whenever he fanaticized about having intercourse with her. However, he would resolve to banish it. It only served to limit him, weaken him, and that was unacceptable. Harlene's mutual desire for a sexual relationship only served to solidify his resolve. She may not be his master, but he would not, could not disappoint her.

"Maul, I just have one more question before we retire." Her voice broke into his thoughts. "If your hatred for the Jedi has been tainted, what hatred can you focus?"

_Do not tell her,_  Lord Sidious whispered.  _She will take it from you, and you will be doomed to live without hate._

But another voice, a stronger voice, said something entirely different.

_Trust her._

"Myself."

Harlene paled. She opened her mouth, and the sadness and anger in her expression betrayed her intentions. Before Sidious could hiss in triumph, she closed it and sighed.

"Do what you have to do, Maul. I promised I wouldn't destroy your hate. I keep my word."

If he were blind, he could see he had failed her. Disappointed her. It cut so deeply that for a moment he considered…no. There could be no compromise. He needed pure hatred. He would just have to find a way to make it up to her.

An hour later, he was lying in bed, securely in her arms. Once again, there would be no nightmares, only warmth and comfort. Tonight he would savor the peace washing over him. Tomorrow, he would hate himself for it.

"Maul?"

He pulled his face away from her bosom slightly so his voice wouldn't muffle. "Yes?"

"When the Jedi held me prisoner…you said you were afraid. What was the reason again?"

His grip tightened on her hair. "I did not know what they were doing to you. But whatever it was…I was helpless to stop them."

Long pause.

"You were afraid…for me?"

"…yes."

Her hand slid up behind his head. She gently guided his face back to her chest.

"Thank you for telling me."

xXx

**"You could have _died,_  Harlene."**

"Tell me something I don't know."

**"Apprentice, I swear to God, if you pull a stunt like that again without consulting with me first, you will never see him again."**

"Empty threats, Claire? That's very unbecoming of you."

**"Underestimating me is far more unbecoming of you."**

"I did what I felt was right. You can call me blind or stupid as much as you want, but  _I did what I felt was right._  And that is something you will  _never_  stop me from doing."

**"So you've demonstrated. I'm sorry, Harlene. I don't mean to sound like a control freak, but there are very few things in this world I couldn't bear and losing you is one of them."**

"Likewise. But you didn't lose me, so how about we stop dwelling on it and move on?"

**"An excellent idea."**

"A lot of good came from this. He knows now that he needs a lot more than just me, but there's one thing he needs that I just can't accept."

**"Which is?"**

"He needs hatred, and the only untainted hate he can focus is the hate he has for himself."

**"You didn't suggest alternatives? Many kinds of passion—"**

"You weren't there. You didn't see his face. When I was about to suggest alternatives, he looked like a junkie about to be deprived of his last snort of cocaine! Claire, how do I deal with this? The more time I spend with him, the more I taint his other hatreds, meaning it's going to take more and more self-loathing for him to get his fix…and if he overdoses…"

**"Self-loathing is the most destructive emotion in existence. And you're right. Too much could drive him crazy or kill him."**

"What do I  _do?"_

**"How did Vader survive on his self-loathing for so long?"**

"He had purpose in serving the Emperor and running the Empire. And then he found out he had a son."

**"Then why not give Maul a purpose for the time being? It doesn't have to be a permanent one, but it will help quell the negative effects of self-loathing."**

"Yeah. I could give him a temporary purpose. And I think I have something in mind."

**"Excellent. Wean him off with nicotine patches. Remember, Vader's self-loathing eventually became irrelevant and you know why."**

"Yeah. Claire…when the bubble shifted…when the Jedi took me prisoner…he said he was afraid for me."

**"If that's true, then he genuinely cares about you. Do you think he knows it?"**

"He knows. He's just not sure how to deal with it. And the truth is neither am I."

**"You're frustrated."**

"Tone gave it away, huh?"

**"Talking about it helps."**

"Of course it does. I can't imagine how much worse it would be if I didn't have you or Jacob or Roan or—"

**"Talking to people helps, Harlene, but you may find it can often be more beneficial if you talk only to yourself."**

"What do you mean?"

**"I've noticed that those progress reports you send in have grown quite impersonal, not that I blame you. They're part of your job. But a recorded diary is not."**

"Diary…"

**"They all frustrate you, Harlene: Maul, Aurra, Anakin, Kar—your difficult companions. I'll even bet Jango still frustrates you. It's not healthy to keep that all bottled up inside you. If you want a clear mind, you'll have to release it."**

"You really think it could work?"

**"If you must know, I often record personal conversations and I find it quite therapeutic to review them."**

"You know that actually does sound like a very good idea. I'll get on it right away."

**"Excellent. I hope it helps."**

xXx

It soon became clear that Cody's detention with Mr. Borger was, in reality, a contest of wills. At five PM, Debra York was allowed to go free, but Cody was told to remain in his seat. He had then been subjected to the smug glare that could end all smug glares.  _Try it, you little shit,_  it screamed.  _You just try it._

Apparently Boogerman decided to read Cody's Tweets after all, and found them to be quite unflattering as well as a goldmine of blackmail material. The school would be well within its rights to suspend him for ten days for pulling such a stunt, and, much as he loathed to admit it, he really had brought it on himself. He could have waited to go home and Tweet (a pseudonym would have kept his identity a secret), but his hatred for History class had clouded his judgment. So he toughed it out for two more hours and didn't let a peep escape him, nor did he give Boogerman the satisfaction of seeing his relief when he was finally free to go.

"Mr. Harrington?"

Cody paused in the doorway, right foot hovering over the line between freedom and captivity.

"You will return here every night until I say otherwise. Am I clear?"

He looked down at his suspended foot and imagined Boogerman's face beneath it.

"Yes, sir," he muttered and fled before he was provoked into saying or doing something that could get him suspended and or expelled. He then sent a text message to his sister since he really didn't feel like being verbally lectured at the moment. Fortunately, her high school was only a couple of blocks away, else she would be even more pissed about having to drive all the way to his middle school to get him.

And speaking of pissed…

After using the facilities, Cody performed what he liked to call a cleansing ritual. Ever since the CAA declared war on America, the bathroom walls had all but become graffiti murals, which was fitting since most people now carried pens and pencils only in the cases of emergencies. Cody scanned the wall, red pen of death in hand. However, he wasn't interested in who was having butt sex with who. He had a very specific target in mind.

There. Crudely drawn, but visible: the emblem of the Congress of Aryan Alliances.

With grim satisfaction, Cody drew a circle around it followed by a slash. After another five minutes of scanning, he found just one more and repeated the process. Tucking the red pen away, he exited the bathroom. He whistled cheerfully for a minute before he was cut off by his ringing comm. He groaned when he saw it was Kayla. Not answering it wasn't an option. If his sister was as mad as he thought she was, she would make him walk all the way home if he dared ignore her.

"Hey, Kay—"

"Where the fuck are you, you little shrimp! Do you have any fucking idea how late it is-!"

"I know, I know," Cody hissed. He reduced the volume on his comm. The school was practically deserted, but he was very fond of his ability to hear. "Look, I'm sorry. Borger's a sadist! He kept me for two more hours—"

"—Lawrence Brookes asked me out on a date next Saturday. If I can't go because Mom grounds me, I swear to God, I'll castrate you in your sleep-!"

"—I'll take all the blame, I swear!"

"You'd better. Now get your ass over here before I leave it to rot in the gutters."

She hung up.

"Well, that went well," Cody muttered before proceeding to haul ass to Kayla's high school.

Normally, he took Horseshoe, but Hallows was known to be even shorter, if creepier, thanks to the old trees and vines. Some kids even liked to call it Deathly Hallows. Well, the sun hadn't set yet, so he was certain he would be able to make his way. After five minutes of picking through vines, he was actually starting to feel a little smug.

"…needs you. Needs  _all_  of you. The white race can't survive unless you're willing to pick up where we leave off. You're the lifeblood of our future pure generation."

Huh…?

Quieting his steps, Cody crept through the foliage, following the voice.

"We're not asking you to join our brothers and sisters in battle. But you need to understand why they're fighting. They're fighting for you, for your rights as God's chosen race."

Cody peered behind a tree and nearly swore at what he saw.

Two men…no, they weren't men. They didn't look a day over sixteen, though they were tall and burly. The three girls beside them looked to be about the same age. They were high school students, probably from Kayla's, and they were addressing a crowd.

A crowd of Cody's classmates.

"But that does not exclude you from your duty," the leader continued in a clear, commanding voice. He had dark blonde hair, gray eyes, and all-American features. "And your duty is to show your pride at home, in school, wherever you go. We are the oppressed race. We are the victims. We—"

Without even thinking, Cody whipped out his comm and pressed the record button. The meeting lasted for fifteen minutes. He got it all. Before he could be seen, he ran in the opposite direction. Kayla was waiting for him in front of the main building.

"You little twit, I'm gonna—" The threat died on her lips when she saw his expression. "Hey, what's wrong?"

They were halfway home when she was finally able to coax the entire story out of him. When they stopped at a red light, she stared at her lap.

"Was he wearing a black leather jacket with chains around the sleeve cuffs?"

Cody blinked. "You mean the leader? Yeah. Why?"

Kayla looked up, and her eyes were burning with fury and betrayal.

"That's Lawrence Brookes."

Cody felt the blood drain from his face. His shoulders sagged as he whispered, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she said, though he saw her wipe her eyes. "Guess I owe you a Stars sundae, huh?"

"Just don't ever go out with him and we'll call it even," he insisted.

Kayla gave a forced laugh. "Make that two Stars sundaes."

Right now, even the thought of his favorite dessert in the entire universe was enough to make him more nauseous than he already felt. To think that his sister almost went out on a date with a member of the Alliance…

"Have any tried to recruit you before?" he asked.

Kayla continued driving, but her eyes flickered briefly to the rearview mirror. Cody saw her take in her pale skin, blue eyes, and golden blonde hair.

"No," she said. "But I guess it was only a matter of time." She gave him a worried frown. "You?"

"Not me." Cody was suddenly overcome with so much fury that he punched the glove compartment.

"What's the matter?"

He turned away so she wouldn't see his tears. "Whenever someone draws the Alliance emblem in the boy's bathroom, I always scribble on it with the red pen of death." He took said pen out of his pocket and glared at it. "It felt so good. For a while…I really thought I was…not making a difference…not like you, but…"

"Anyone who isn't afraid to give those motherfuckers their own private version of the finger does make a difference," she snapped. "I don't care how small it is."

"I do!" he shouted. "And it's not just the Alliance. It's also shitheads like Boogerman who think that America's turned into Nazi Germany because of the Error Correctors."

"Then why not record a rant and put it up on YouTube like me?"

"Oh, sure. Me trying to compete with the almighty CyberBanshee666."

"Just record yourself saying your piece and put it up. You've already got quite a bit of Twitter followers." She grinned. "And who said anything about competition? We both know you'll never get as much views as me."

_Yeah, and half of them are probably guys who want to screw you,_  he thought but didn't say so aloud. In reality, that was quite unfair. His sister did have a powerful presence on YouTube. It was probably one of the reasons why their family got so much CAA recruitment invitations in the mail.

Actually, that alone would make it worth it. One of the few things he and Kayla truly bonded over was their Sunday barbecue.

So after enduring his parent's lectures and catching up on homework, Cody activated his comm cam and began to rant.

xXx

When Maul glanced at the chronometer after emerging from meditation, he noticed it was now taking nearly two hours longer than before to focus pure hate. Much as he loathed interruptions in his training schedule, it was worth it. Dark energy was surging through his muscles, permeating every cell. Two extra hours was such a small price to pay to—

_-be a junkie?_

Maul stopped in his tracks. The Voice's comment birthed a tidal wave of outrage and indignation, but also…

_It's good that you're not proud of yourself, that deep down you wish for better fulfillment._

Breathing harshly, Maul said nothing.

_Go to your training room. You may find something of interest._

With several misgivings, he obeyed. When he reached the entrance, he saw a flashing light in the distance. It was the datapad he had left for Harlene several weeks ago. Hearts pounding, he ran to the weapons table it was laying on and snatched it up. He read the message.

He read it again.

And again.

By the tenth time he had it memorized, and various phrases seemed to shoot from the screen like fiery punches.

…my country is at war…

…my creed is no longer secret…

…The Congress of Aryan Alliances means to wipe us from existence…

…don't consider us human…

…Entire dimension completely destroyed…

…must play the Virus Creed's games…

…official part of the American military now…

…can't fight for our country…

…I have a favor to ask of you…

…more than just Teras Kasi and Juyo lightsaber techniques?…

…don't hold back…

…I need you, Maul…

_I need you, Maul._

Maul looked up from the datapad. For a while, all he felt was a horrible numbness. When it died, the first thing he became aware of was an almost overwhelming sense of betrayal. After all her talk of wanting to be with him, wanting him to trust her, all her gestures of her trust and faith in him she dared to keep this a secret from him!

_I need you, Maul._

She was in danger.

There were beings who would do their utmost to destroy her. To enslave her. To take her away from him.

A rattling noise distracted him. He looked around and saw that the weapons and droids were shaking in response to the waves of Force energy permeating through his very being. Maul welcomed it with open arms. Within five minutes, every training droid crumbled to dust from the sheer power of his will. Exhausted, he slumped against the weapons table, panting.

"This is what you meant?" he demanded. "This is what she must face?"

He didn't wait for an answer. Clutching the datapad, he paced furiously, staring at the message.

_A favor. She asks me as a favor. As if I would refuse. Does she truly believe I would refuse!_

She wanted him to teach her more than just Teras Kasi and Juyo lightsaber techniques. She wanted to prove herself to her government's military so they would let her fight alongside them. Why was beyond him. If they were so blind as to dismiss her because of her youth, then they were as contemptible as her superiors. But no matter. If she was to survive, she must become an unrivalled warrior and fast.

_And I have been limiting her._

Maul was so disgusted with himself he wanted to drive his lightsaber through his own stomach. Ever since he witnessed that future vision of Harlene, he knew he wanted her to surpass him. And yet he limited her training to only two fighting arts when he was proficient in over two hundred! Such stupidity was unforgivable, but hopefully it was not too late to rectify his grave error.

_Forraderi, the Echani martial arts, Niman—Force be damned, I'll teach her every bloody thing I know!_

He came to a halt and glanced at the ruined droids. He was grateful he had destroyed them and that it would take several hours before they regenerated. There was no time to vent his anger. He was irrelevant. Harlene was everything.

_I need you, Maul._

The Virus Creed. They desired her to be their slave. She would be treated as nothing more than an object to them if they had their way.

The Congress of Aryan Alliances. They wanted to kill her and not because of her ability to feel compassion or her association with him. They desired her death because of her coloring. Her beautiful, rare coloring.

After several hours of lesson planning, Maul meditated on his hatred.

It was not for himself.

xXx

BRIINNNNGGGG! BRRRIIIINNNNG!

Groaning, Cody turned off his alarm. Knowing no amount of wishing wouldn't make today Saturday, he hauled himself out of bed and activated his comm. He didn't know why he immediately went to his YouTube channel. He probably hadn't even gotten a single hit yet. The video had been posted barely six hours ago and plenty of people worshipped the Error Correctors. But he still checked.

When he saw the amount of hits he received, the first thing he did was drop his comm. When he saw it again, he splashed his face with cold water before looking at it a third time. The number remained the same.

55, 834.

"Kayla…" His sister's name came out an inaudible mumble. As he tore down the halls wearing only his shorts, his voice quickly grew to a gloating scream.

 


	16. Chapter 16

  
" **Oh, don't mind me. I can easily put you on standby if you need to go beat the shit out of something."**

" **That would be beneath me."**

" **Like those empty threats your apprentice pointed out?"**

" **Don't provoke me."**

"… **she was safe. I'm certain of it."**

" **She will not risk her life like that again. I am not going to lose her."**

" **But you can't monitor her in the bubble, so how…ah."**

" **A voice diary can be incredibly therapeutic."**

" **That it can."**

" **The attack will be very soon?"**

" **Yes. You know, the president's right. We run no small risk by stopping an attack on Virtual Industries. After all, it's one of VirTech's biggest divisions."**

" **Getting cold feet?"**

" **Fuck no. I'm just saying that this is the type of fuse that can't be blown out once it's lit."**

" **That's the idea. It's not enough to be just a thorn in the Alliance's side."**

**xXx**

When Trent Carlyle opened his eyes, he was deeply relieved to see that the ceiling wasn't bone white. He wasn't in the hospital anymore. He was in his room. He was home. In that moment, he vowed never to underestimate the often underrated pleasure ever again.

Even if he still felt like shit.

He pulled the bedclothes away and sat up with painstaking slowness. It had been weeks since Kemp had subjected him to that barbaric emotional transfer, and he would admit he was getting better despite suffering a total of three seizures. After the first one, the Alliance decided to send him home so he wouldn't disgrace them any more than he already had. Of course, they made sure to 'tender' their animosity by giving him a get-well card straight from Hallmark. The Alliance was, apparently, growing dissatisfied with their traditional 'fuck-you' methods.

After showering with effort, he made his way to the kitchen, thinking that he could stand to eat at least some granola and a banana. When he passed the living room, the heavy stench of vodka coming from it indicated that his mother had been up for quite some time already. He thought about saying good morning, but decided against it. After eating as much as his stomach could bear, he made to go back to his room again, but stopped when he heard a heavy swallow coming from the living room followed by a retching sound.

"Mom?"

Another retching sound was the only reply. Trent ran into the living room. His mother was on the couch wearing clothes that probably hadn't been washed in a week. Her once shining brown hair hung lank and unkempt around her prematurely wrinkled face. She was about to take another swing, but Trent grabbed the bottle just in time. His eyes widened when he saw she was more than halfway through it.

"Mom, that's enough," he said sharply. "Christ, do you want to kill yourself?!"

The dull glare he received in response was enough to know that that was the wrong question. He hadn't been home for months, but his father would have at least told him she was getting worse. Or maybe she was worse because of him. Because he failed.

"Mom." He tried to gentle his voice as best he could. "Look, I can't imagine how disappointed you are—"

"Give me that bottle."

"No, just listen to me—"

"I said GIVE ME THAT BOTTLE!"

She lunged for it, and Trent knew it would still take some time before he regained his physical and mental capacities when his drunk mother succeeded in seizing the bottle from his hands. She took a swing and stood up to face her son. Eyes blazing, she yanked her shirt up revealing an ugly pink and white scar across her lower abdomen.

"See this?" she hissed. "This means I can drain every fucking drop from every fucking bottle in this entire house, and it won't fucking matter."

Her teeth were bared and her expression was crazed, but she was spared the indignity of looking like a rabid animal thanks to the unbounded grief wrapped up in all that hate. Well aware of the risk he was taking Trent slowly went up to her and pulled her into a tentative embrace. She flinched as if about to attack him, but after a moment, she sagged in his arms with a moan.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Trent whispered. "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault."

He knew it was true. She had gotten worse since the last time he saw her, and he was the one to blame.

She pulled away slightly and looked up at him. He was stunned when he saw that the hatred in her wet, bloodshot eyes had softened considerably. The pain was a different story, however. Her hands came up to tenderly stroke his face.

"Baby," she whispered hoarsely. "Oh, baby, you were so beautiful when you came out, so beautiful and so precious. I gave the world what it needed most: a strong, beautiful white child. Nathan was beautiful, too, and strong." She looked down and put a hand over her belly. "No one else could see him, but I knew, and I wanted to show them even if they couldn't see. All I wanted was to show them…show the niggers and the kikes and the spics our future and their future. But they couldn't stand it. They couldn't stand the thought of a beautiful white child entering their world, so they…"

Trent caught his mother before she could collapse on the floor. He lowered her to the sofa and gently rocked her as she sobbed. He didn't speak, fearful that he would only make things worse.

An hour later, the front door swung open, and the heavy footsteps that followed indicated that his father was home. Trent heard the refrigerator door open and the clinking sound of a beer bottle before his father entered the living room. Without so much as a glance at Trent or his broken wife, he took a swing of beer and disappeared upstairs. Trent's shock soon gave way to anger, and he gently retracted himself from his mother who was now slumped on the couch and muttering his unborn dead brother's name in a drunken slur. After painstakingly making it up the stairs, Trent stopped outside his parent's room. The door was open and he heard his father's voice.

"Yeah, it was nice. It was really nice. Kelly never wanted to try that, but you were always adventurous." Brief pause. "No, baby, Kelly and I are over. It's been three months without condoms. She's dry as a desert. You and I—we've got our duty. So let's keep performing it."Another pause. "All right. Same time tomorrow? Sounds great. Oh, and uh…the black lace thong was nice, but when I think about a red one clinging to the gorgeous ass of yours…fuck, I need a cold shower. Don't be late, ya hear? Okay. See you then."

Combined with his condition and the anger coursing through him, Trent's stomach was making him deeply regret eating breakfast. If he didn't lie down, he would surely throw up.

His father gave amused chuckle after putting down his comm.

Fuck it.

Trent pushed the door open. "When was the last time she saw the counselor?"

"Hmm?" His father turned around and raised an almost lazy eyebrow.

"Mom." Trent's voice rose. "When did you last take her to see the counselor?"

"Ah, she doesn't need to see the counselor." He sat down on the bed took a drink of beer. "Doesn't need to go to some commie hospital run by shitbloods and shitheads. Doin' just fine…"

"You know she sure as fuck isn't!" Trent raged. He marched straight up to his father. "She's worse, and you don't care because you're too busy fucking every white trash slut that comes your—"

"Don't get all high and mighty with me, boy!" his father shouted back. "You think blowing up shitbloods is what'll get us this world? Hah! We could nuke 'em all right now and we'd be scrambling around like diseased niggers, trying to replace all the tainted shit and rubble. We need more whites, 'cause there aren't fuckin' enough! That's what I'm doing. I'm carrying out my duty as a healthy white man who can bring healthy white kids into this world. Your mom sure as shit can't do that," he added in a disgusted mutter as he took another drink.

Trent yanked the bottle from his father's grasp and smashed the end of it against his head. His father landed in a heap on the floor, groaning and clutching his forehead, which began to bleed profusely.

Trent stared at his father. His fingers tightened against the broken bottle. Blood-tinged beer poured onto the carpet, but he took no notice.

"You son of a bitch," he said in a trembling whisper. "She was five months pregnant and she still decided to march with you during the White Power Rally. You told her that God hated cowards, so she went with you. And when the shitbloods opened fire you got away without a scratch, but she…" His voice broke, remembering his mother's bloody form carried away by paramedics; her devastation when the doctors told her that not only had she lost the baby, but that she would never bear children again.

"Fuck you," Trent spat. "Fuck you!"

He threw the bottle at his father before turning on his heel and marching away.

"You little shit!" His father's screams echoed behind him. "You should've died during that raid. You hear me? I wish you had died!"

xXx

It was cowardly to wait after Aurra's ship had docked on Nar Shaddaa to meet up with her, but Harlene didn't want to handle two emotional encounters back-to-back.

Or maybe I just don't know what the hell I'm gonna say, she thought.

Aurra had sexual feelings for her and as far as that went, the only thing Harlene was certain of was how dense she was for not seeing it from the start. It had been obvious, but she had been blind. Perhaps she should stop being so afraid of presuming people's feelings regarding her. It had closed her off to Maul's attraction and now Aurra's. Claire would be so disappointed in her.

So. Aurra was attracted to Harlene and knew she was well aware of that fact. While ignoring this new development was out of the question regardless of whether or not she knew, Harlene needed to decide fast what she was going to do. Letting Aurra off gently seemed to be the only option, and just as Harlene was contemplating which choice of words would result in the least amount of fireworks, she became very aware of another vital question.

Did she want to let Aurra off at all?

The question itself caused Harlene to freeze, but her treacherous mind carried her back to two nights ago. It had started as just another calming session, and there was nothing at all inappropriate about touching someone's bare back. It could be purely platonic.

But I enjoyed it. I touched her and she shuddered in my arms. I wanted to make her shudder again. I liked it. It was…exciting.

Harlene felt blood rise in her face. She wasn't ashamed. Her Sex-Ed instructor had warned her that there was a very high probability she would start to have homosexual urges when she hit her adolescence and that they were perfectly natural. Claire had reinforced those lessons when Harlene asked her about it.

Everyone is bisexual to some degree, her mentor had said. Everyone feels homosexual urges. The only question is: are they strong enough for you to want to act on them?

The only question…

Knowing she couldn't delay any longer, Harlene teleported onto Aurra's ship. To her dismay, she discovered that the bounty hunter was sitting in the pilot's chair, her face buried in her long-fingered hands.

"Aurra?"

Her head jerked up and to the right, blue eyes wide with a variety of emotions, terror being the most prominent.

Harlene smiled brightly and tilted her head toward the doorway. "What are you waiting for? Let's go get our scum!"

Unfortunately, Aurra didn't seem to know if she should take Harlene's openness as a good sign or a bad sign. Regardless, she cleared her throat and stood up.

"Yeah, we need to be going now." She adjusted the blaster strapped to her hip. Harlene had a feeling the action was just an excuse to not make eye contact. "Time is credits."

They headed out of the ship. Harlene immediately took in her surroundings and saw Aurra smile bitterly out of the corner of her eye.

"What do you think?"

While completely urbanized, there wasn't a single building that didn't look as if it had been on its last legs for centuries. Instead of a brilliant, clear blue, the sky was covered in thick, gray smoke thanks to the constant stream of pollution being pumped into the atmosphere. Harlene had smelled death and despair before, but this smell was different. Not only was it older, it was intrinsic.

"I think this would be Coruscant after a nuclear holocaust," Harlene said.

"Hmm." Aurra smiled again. "There's a cheerful thought."

They took a monorail to the lower levels and didn't speak throughout the ride. Aurra paid the fare and they disembarked ten minutes later. Harlene made sure not to make eye-contact with anyone as they made their way down the slime-ridden pavement, but like the smell it was impossible to block out the voices all around her. Guttural, slurred, broken. A lot of them didn't even seem to speak any kind of real language. Maybe they had forgotten how to. Fortunately, they didn't run into any trouble, and Harlene knew that Aurra was the reason why. Nar Shaddaa was a haven for bounty hunters looking for work, and Aurra's reputation couldn't have been more ruthless or powerful. It was also on a galactic level.

As they dwelled deeper into the city, Harlene lost her battle against the smells and wrinkled her nose.

"We're getting closer to the Corellian Sector," Aurra said dryly. "Where repulsorlift garbage scows are even more common than spice-addicts."

"Where are we now?"

"The Duros Sector." Her voice dropped so low Harlene had to augment her hearing. "Use your telepathy."

Harlene immediately opened a link.

See that sharp corner up ahead?

Yeah.

We're going to walk behind that scow right there, and then we're going to turn straight in. Understand?

Harlene answered affirmative. She kept the link open, but asked no questions. When they rounded the corner, Aurra led her through a dark, slime-ridden tunnel that seemed to go on for at least a half a mile. The smell of exotic garbage grew more and more potent with every step. After emerging, Harlene saw that Aurra had not been exaggerating about the scows.

"This way," she said, giving Harlene's arm a little tug.

Despite the heavy scent of garbage, Harlene noticed that the pollution wasn't quite as bad here and neither were the people. Some even looked perfectly normal. Perhaps the Corellian Sector contained Nar Shaddaa's 'middle-class.'

"There we go," Aurra said, breaking the silence. She pointed to a neon sign. "That's where we're going."

"Meltdown Café?" Harlene read aloud after having the Interface translate the Aurebesh.

"It's a great place for bounty hunters looking for work," Aurra explained as they went inside. "My business associate runs the casinos. She'll be in the back."

Harlene was glad that the place wasn't nearly as rowdy as she had thought it would be. Then again, if it was a great place for job-seeking bounty hunters, the almost discreet atmosphere made perfect sense. She followed Aurra to the bar where an old Duro male was concocting something so potent, Harlene could smell it from where she was sitting.

"Two Tatooine Sunburns," Aurra said. "Mina likes 'em spicy."

The Duro nodded and disappeared into a back room. Harlene raised an eyebrow at Aurra.

Don't worry. He knows that if he isn't back in two minutes, I'll gut him like a fish.

Oooookay.

Aurra's lip curled. The Duro returned in less than a minute later and gestured for them to follow him. He led them through the casino until they reached a door that looked like it could be the entrance to a cleaning closet. The Duro slipped a card through the lock and led them through a hallway with several doors on either side. Harlene suspected they were rooms reserved for private business meetings or other entertainments. The Duro knocked on the last door three times before opening it. He nodded to Aurra before taking leave.

"Come in, come in," a bored female voice said. "You're letting the good air out."

It was an office of some kind and Harlene immediately noticed that the air was better in here. The result of a private filter no doubt. Behind the front desk was a stunning, statuesque Zeltron with pale pink skin, wavy white hair that fell down to her waist, and narrow eyes of the deepest violet. Though she got up from her chair with the air of someone who had just awoken from a long nap, she rounded around her desk with an unnatural feline grace. Her two-piece black suit and the three blasters slung around her hips and left leg implied that she hadn't honed such grace through dance lessons.

"Hello, hunter. Long time no see." Her gaze fell on Harlene and that lazy drawl dropped to a low purr. "Hello, beautiful."

A couple of years ago, Harlene would have been unnerved. Now she merely noted that she was dealing with a predator, and a deadly one at that. She gave nothing away, meeting the Zeltron's smile and hungry eyes with a blank stare which she emphasized by raising a few barriers. Aurra on the other hand had a somewhat different reaction.

"You have a good eye, Mina. Duly noted. But keep it on the business at hand."

The Zeltron, Mina, didn't betray any fear at the crimson lightsaber inches from her nose.

"All right, hunter, settle down. Obviously, I don't want her as badly as you so I'll let it go."

Aurra bared her teeth and inched the tip of her blade closer.

"You really want to do this?" Mina's tone was low and deadly. "Well, I've always wondered if I have a faster draw than you. Wanna test it, hunter?"

In a flash, the tip of Harlene's sword was pressed against the Zeltron's stomach.

"Why don't you test me too?" she whispered. "I love being tested."

Violet eyes narrowed at her. "You just carry that around, little girl, or can you use it?"

Harlene grinned. "You're not the first person to ask me that. But I'm not going to answer because that would imply that I have something to prove to you and I don't. What's more, you really should learn to cover up your soft spots." She poked the Zeltron's bare stomach. "Because last I heard, necrophilia isn't the sexiest pastime in the galaxy."

For a moment, Harlene thought Mina would try to attack her, odds be damned. But then she relaxed and smiled.

"Never said I didn't like 'em fiery." She turned to Aurra. "All right, hunter, what's say we put our toys away and talk business."

Aurra glared, but holstered her lightsaber. Harlene followed suite with her sword. Mina rounded around her desk and sat down as if nothing had happened. She gestured for Harlene and Aurra to take the two opposite seats. Once they did, Mina activated a holochip on her desk. It materialized into the rotating image of a battered and ruthless looking Feeorin.

"Captain Orn. Officially one of Black Sun's most efficient glitterstim smugglers. Unofficially, he's an even more efficient slave trafficker. Many are unaware that he and his crew are well-schooled in rather unique breaking methods. Even members of particularly stubborn species such as the Zabrak are known to be sold on the market as cowed shells of their former selves thanks to Captain Orn." Mina raised an elegant eyebrow at Aurra. "That scum enough for you?"

"Only if he can give a good chase," Aurra replied.

"Oh, he'll keep you busy for a while," Mina said with a smile. "Iridonia is a Mid Rim world, meaning he knows how to conduct business in Republic territory where slavery's illegal."

"In many ways, the Republic is just as corrupt as the Outer Rim," Harlene said coldly. "In fact, I would die of shock if he couldn't do business in it."

Mina shrugged. "The decision's yours."

Harlene and Aurra looked at one another.

What do you think?

Are you fucking kidding me? A pirate who specializes in torture? I don't care if he's right down the block. Let's go get him!

Aurra's lip twitched. She turned to Mina and said, "We accept."

"Wonderful. Just hand over the creds and I'll give you all the information I've gathered on Captain Orn, his crew, and his known whereabouts."

While Aurra paid the Zeltron, Harlene probed the Interface for any disturbances. The currents where known to act up a bit when an error was approaching. Much as she wanted to slowly fry this Captain Orn's nervous system with her electricity, she had to make sure what she was doing wouldn't jeopardize the timeline. Fortunately, it only took her a few seconds to discover the currents were stable at the moment.

So far, so good.

"Well, that was relatively painless," Harlene commented once they stepped off the monorail again. "I've got to say your business associate wasn't what I expected."

Aurra gave her a sharp look. "What the kriff's that's supposed to mean?"

Harlene frowned. "What's your problem?"

"Bet you liked it, didn't you?" Aurra hissed, blue eyes burning with accusation. "The way she eyed you up—flattered you just to get between your—"

Harlene grabbed Aurra's wrist roughly. "Maybe you've forgotten, or maybe I didn't speak clearly when I told of my time in Ybor. So read my flapping lips: I. Am. Not. A. Sex. Object. And anyone who treats me that way again will die screaming and in agony. Fortunately for Mina, the vibes I got from her weren't nearly as bad as the vibes and the treatment I got from others. I only meant that I rarely see Zeltron mercenaries, especially ones who decide to set up shop on Nar Shaddaa."

Harlene abruptly released Aurra and stormed her way to the ship. She went straight to one of the empty living quarters and was relieved to see that Aurra wasn't following her. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who was aware that if an argument like that progressed, it would eventually turn into a physical brawl.

Physical brawl.

Harlene tried to stop the blush and failed. She sat down on the cot and bit her lip. She and Aurra had come such a long way since they first met, there was no question about that. Their relationship had started as a war, and something told Harlene that war still wasn't over despite their remarkable progress. Still, Harlene trusted Aurra. She admired her deeply for her willingness to fight against her demons instead of letting them consume her. She was a beautiful woman. Very beautiful. Exotic, deadly. How could Harlene not be flattered at the very least?

But I'm not just flattered. I touched her yesterday. And I liked it.

I want to touch her again.

(Be careful, child.)

Reason struggled with her newfound desire. It warned her that there would be consequences. Aurra was still very unstable. She could hurt Harlene without even meaning to.

I'm prepared, Harlene thought, getting up from the cot. She's hurt me before. I've hurt her, too. In any relationship we always hurt each other. I know that. I'm prepared. I'm not afraid.

She made her way to the cockpit and found Aurra pouring over the data she had just purchased from Mina.

Harlene leaned against the doorway. "Anything useful in there?"

"A few things," Aurra replied. Her mouth tightened. "But when I pay that high for information, I'd better get my money's worth. If I don't, I'm gonna go back and lop that cheating schutta's head off."

"Wow," Harlene said. "That's a dramatic change in reference. A few hours ago she was a business associate."

Aurra turned to glare at her furiously. "You're still defending her!?"

"Hardly. But at least I'm willing to acknowledge the reason for your hostility. Not that it isn't perfectly justified. After all, who in their right mind could possibly find an ugly, pathetic loser like me beautiful?"

"That's not…" Aurra stood up, angry and uncomfortable. "Harlene, of course that's not…"

Harlene stared at her.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Her voice was soft, but Aurra visibly flinched. She gritted her teeth and looked away.

"You know I would never mock you," Harlene continued in that same soft voice. When Aurra didn't reply, she said, "You're not one to not get what you want, Aurra. In fact, when you do want something, you go for it risks or consequences be damned. The only thing that could possibly hinder you is fear."

"No," Aurra rasped, shaking her head. She finally looked at Harlene with feverish, over bright eyes. "Not fear. Knowledge. Experience. They showed me what it was like. They showed me how much it hurt. They—"

Harlene crossed the distance between them and grabbed Aurra possessively, protectively.

"You are not," she hissed. "Going to make the same mistake I did. I won't let you."

She seized Aurra behind the head and brought their mouths together. In an instant, the bounty hunter gripped her shoulders, but instead of shoving her away, those long fingers buried themselves in the fabric of her cloak. But Harlene was only reassured when Aurra leaned into her, accepting, wanting.

They pulled away at the same time, staring at each other with wide eyes. Harlene was stunned at her own behavior. How could she have done such a thing without even thinking about it? That wasn't like her at all. It didn't make any sense.

(Feelings like this can cloud your judgment in ways you can't imagine.)

Despite Aurra's seemingly positive response, Harlene was momentarily terrified that she had done something horrible. But before she could get a word out, Aurra pulled her in a kiss so hard and deep, it seemed to shut off every other sense she possessed. Barely a few seconds passed when Aurra's grip on her tightened and her lips started to move voraciously over Harlene's. Harlene was at first overwhelmed by the passion of her partner, but her own hunger was building at a rapid rate. She matched Aurra's pace, elated at what she was experiencing. It wasn't the warm tenderness she had felt with Nick, it was a blazing fire that threatened to consume her.

They broke away, both gasping. Harlene's lips were sore and tingling. Aurra was staring at her, face flushed and eyes glazed with awe. Then she smiled. Not a small smile, but a dazzling grin that threatened to split her face. The overwhelming happiness in it almost made Harlene think that she was staring at an entirely different person.

"Come on," Aurra whispered fervently and grabbed Harlene's hand.

She didn't lead them to the bedroom, though. It was the sofa in the living room they ended up on. Harlene didn't blame her. She couldn't wait either.

Aurra pulled off Harlene's cloak who in turn relieved the bounty hunter of her vest. They kissed for several moments before kicking their boots off. Lying on her back, Harlene was about to pull Aurra closer when the bounty hunter sat up on top of her. She slid her arms through the straps of her body suit and in a single movement, yanked the garment down all the way to her hips. Harlene barely got an eyeful of an exquisite torso before she was pulled into yet another kiss, but that was fine. She could look later. It was time to touch.

Greedily, she ran her hands down Aurra's smooth, muscled back. She expected her touch would cause her partner to become even more passionate, but the exact opposite happened. Aurra's kisses slowed and a moan escaped her. But the sound wasn't one of lust or arousal. It was a sound of relief.

Sweet, sweet relief.

As if some horrible, chronic pain was suddenly easing after decades of suffering.

They wouldn't be going any further, Harlene knew, but she wasn't the least bit disappointed. Her need to heal the wounds of this woman she cared so deeply for was more than enough to quell her lust. She continued to let her hands glide over Aurra's back and as she suspected, her partner's kisses continued to grow much softer, as did her moans. When the kisses stopped all together, she leaned her face against Harlene's cheek.

"Just relax," Harlene whispered. "I'm right here."

She let her hands travel further down to caress Aurra's half-exposed hips. Aurra's moans were so soft they were barely audible, but they managed to convey more need and arousal than the most passionate of screams. When she leaned in closer, Harlene became very aware of her own heart. It was beating in her chest, low but powerful thuds.

Lean in closer, she thought. Show me your trust.

Her fingers travelled up Aurra's stomach and began to softly trace the toned muscles. Aurra flinched sharply and made a muffled sound against Harlene's neck, which confused the girl at first. She moved her fingers again, which provoked another flinch and the sound Aurra made was an unmistakable giggle. Understanding, Harlene smirked to herself and continued, curious to see how much she could get away with. A minute later, she was quite surprised that Aurra hadn't snapped at her to stop. Then again, she wasn't exactly digging into her partner's ribs. And while Harlene had heard her laugh before, this particular laugh sounded uncharacteristically sweet. Almost child-like. Not wanting it to end so quickly (and to satisfy certain wicked feelings), Harlene continued her ministrations, but both of them paused when she reached the top of Aurra's ribs. Blood rushed to Harlene's face and she could sense Aurra holding her breath. A line of innocence was about to be crossed, and Harlene knew they were both fully aware of it.

Tentatively, she moved her hands up to cup Aurra's breasts. They both gasped at the contact. Harlene slowly moved her hands, becoming instantly mesmerized by the soft flesh beneath them. Aurra gripped her harder, as if desperate to anchor herself against the emotional and physical intensity of the sensations. Her breathing was harsh, ragged, and hot against Harlene's neck. The girl's heart thundered in response.

Trust. Give me trust.

Give me power.

Her hands stroked, caressed, squeezed, massaged.

(She is yours, child. Make her feel. Feed her hunger, and yours.)

Fingertips teased tight, silky nipples. Aurra suddenly grabbed the sides of Harlene's face and pressed their foreheads together.

"Harlene…" she groaned. There was so much hunger in it.

Harlene was hungry, too. Her hands continued to move over Aurra's breasts, and in the process, she fed and consumed.

xXx

Not an hour passed after Trent's father practically disowned him, he received a personal call on his comm. An invitation for a drink to celebrate his release from the hospital. The thought of a drink (or several) was very appealing, but his still riled temper nearly made him chuck his comm clear across his room when he saw the invitation was from Randall Smith.

Trent knew this was a no-win situation. He could refuse and Smith would take it as a personal insult, which could be fatal to him given his current status as a failure. If he accepted, Smith would find some way to humiliate him further.

The thought of his mother was what made him force his legs to carry him to the car. If she was still fertile, he would have found the guts to refuse, but one did not become a soldier in the Congress of Aryan Alliances by being naïve. Yes, his mother was pure Caucasian, but one thing the Alliance constantly preached was that everyone needed to be useful. Everyone needed to do their fair share in order for the white race to expand. And all his barren mother did was drink herself further into depression. The Grand Dragons wouldn't turn a hair if she suffered an accident.

A fresh wave of rage nearly made him hit the car in front of him. Goddamn the Grand Dragons. His mother was a hero. She hadn't cowered in her room while pregnant unlike some spineless white trash cunts who refused to leave their homes after being knocked up.

And if she did cower like those white trash cunts, you and Nathan would be fighting side by side, his inner voice supplied.

"No," Trent snarled aloud. No, it was the shitbloods who had done this. They had broken his mother's spirit, murdered his unborn brother, and turned his father into a sex-crazed lunatic. He hated his father, he hated the Grand Dragons, but the shitbloods were the true enemy. So long as one shitblood lived, the white race would never be safe or free. They needed to die. Every single one of them. Like he had told Smith years ago, the Alliance couldn't afford to underestimate them, but the goal remained the same. For the white race. For the future.

For Mom.

He needed to stay in the Alliance, he just had to be very careful from now on. He needed to do something that would redeem him in the eyes of the Grand Dragons. But what?

Pulling into the Longhorn bar, he stewed over several ideas but had to lean against the hood of his car after getting out. God, how long would these affects last?

"Hey, you okay?"

He looked up. A stranger about his age was looking at him with concern. A stranger with yellow skin and slanted eyes.

Maybe Kemp had done him a favor after all. Given how angry he was, there was a strong possibility he would have thrown caution to the wind and snapped this shitblood's neck right then and there. It would have been fatal for him. This territory was open to everyone including shitbloods. That would change someday, but for the time being they had to stick to planned guerilla tactics complete with escape routes.

So instead, Trent settled for snarling, "Fuck off," and walking away.

He entered the bar and gave his name to the receptionist. She told him he was expected, and pointed him in the direction of a private booth. Smith was seated in the middle, looking fatter and smugger than ever. Surrounding him was a group of ten admirers, none of whom were Trent's friends. He halted in his step for a moment at the sight of the girl with bleached blonde hair sitting right next to Smith, but continued, knowing there was no way out of this. When Smith saw him, he raised his glass and gave a hoot.

"Break out the trumpets, the red wine, and the whores! The conquering hero has returned!"

Laughter erupted from the table. Only the blonde girl remained silent. Trent forced a smile and sat down.

"Break out the red wine? You pussy, I want some beer."

The laughter turned into a collective "Oooohhhh." All of Smith's admirers turned to their leader, eager for his reaction. Trent was surprised and disappointed to see that smug smile get even smugger if that was even possible.

"You're right, Big T. Just lookin' out for ya. Didn't know if you still had to give piss samples, is all."

More laughter. Trent smiled again while fanaticizing about the plasma gun strapped to his right calf.

"I'll order it for him," the blonde girl cut in. She rounded around Smith and smirked at him. "Shitblood service sucks. You gotta repeat yourself, like, fifty times before they understand. Retarded gimps."

"Yeah, you show 'em, Sammy!" Smith grinned and slapped her on the ass.

She glanced briefly at Trent and made a very subtle motion with her head. Trent pretended to ignore her. When she disappeared behind the bar, he got up too.

"Hey, where ya going?"

"To give my piss sample," Trent said shortly before heading toward the bar.

She was seated in the farthest stool down, her eyes determinately fixed on the variety of drinks on display. Trent sat down next to her. After fighting a wave of vertigo, he spoke.

"Care to tell me what I'm here to be awed at, Sam?"

"We're going to attack Virtual Industries within the hour." She pitched her voice so low he had to lean in to hear. "We'll be able to get at their core thanks to Randy's hacking skills. It took months of planning."

Trent frowned. "And you're not breaking out the pompoms because…?"

She looked at him sharply. "Because we both know it's not gonna go down. We're gonna be stopped. Someone's going to stop us like they stopped you." Her eyes were so pale they looked iris-less in the harsh lights. "We've got a rat in our nest."

Trent nodded. "I've heard the rumors, but you hear rumors like that every day. It's not enough to make anyone act."

"That'll change after today," Sam insisted. "The Grand Dragons won't be able to ignore a defeat like this."

Trent's frown deepened. "Geez, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're hoping for this attack to fail." He snorted. "What is fat-ass over there making you piss raspberry juice?"

"Don't stick your damn nose down at me, wannabe shitblood fucker," she spat. "If we don't do something, they're going to fuck us something royal!"

"You think a member of the Virus Creed is selling us out?"

"Of course," she hissed. "They're shitbloods. They hate us, and they've been biding their time until now. You have to know that."

"I know Orion persuaded you not to become a soldier." Her smirked at her. "That your motivation?"

Her face flushed and she bared her teeth. "You son of a bitch, my motivation is to expose the rat so the Grand Dragons'll let us cut the rest of them to ribbons."

"And you want me to help you," he concluded with an edge of sarcasm.

"Yeah." Her expression became eager. "Look, Trent, it's not your fault. You could have won a great victory for us, and thanks to that shitblood rat, you're disgraced. Think of it! If we can find him and expose him, you would be able to punch Randy in the balls in an open arena and no one would bat an eye!"

Meaning he  _was_  making her piss raspberry juice. Figured. Trent was just glad he wasn't involved with her anymore. She was ambitious and was determined to believe that she would get to the top by sleeping her way there. She did try to become a soldier once, but made the fatal mistake of calling Rebecca Fries a chink in front of her boyfriend. He didn't feel sorry for Sam, though. In fact, if he was completely honest with himself, he was far more sorry that Fries didn't deliver out the punishment herself. God, that would have been so hot to see.

"Well?"

The bartender gave Trent his drink. He sipped it thoughtfully.

"Sam," he said slowly and looked her straight in the eye.

"Yes?" she said breathlessly.

"…go find another sucker to wrap in your cooze."

He took his drink and began walking toward Randy's booth, determined to get this over with as soon as possible. The indignant splutters behind him were easy to ignore.

xXx

Several months of sleeping next to Harlene had calmed Aurra's nerves to the point where at least they never prompted her to attack the girl upon awakening. In fact, their last few nights together had allowed her to awaken to feelings of relaxation that were very pleasant if even more alien. This time was no different, but the feeling quickly faded when she quickly remembered her state of undress.

And last night…

She gasped aloud, but any movement was halted by Harlene's arms around her.

"Shhh. Aurra, it's okay. It's all right."

The reassurance was followed by a kiss to the top of her head. Panting, Aurra felt her entire body flush as she digested the fact that she was lying half-naked in Harlene's arms. Her heart threatened to burst in her chest when she remembered the night before. The girl had accepted her, wanted her. She had been the one to initiate their first kiss, and oh, they had kissed. Kissed and exchanged touches that had ignited Aurra's very soul. Despite her previous shame and determination to beat her desire, she had fantasized about being with Harlene like this, but no fantasy could ever hold a candle to reality. The girl's kiss, her hands on her breasts…she couldn't describe it if her life depended on it.

"Aurra?"

The girl was stroking her hand. Aurra swallowed through a dry throat.

"Is this real?"

A soft chuckle. Then Aurra felt a hand cup her breast.

"You decide, my dear."

The fire blazing through her at the girl's touch decimated any remaining doubts she had. This was real. Harlene wanted her too, and having the girl this way was not pain. How could she have ever thought so?

Feeling her throat burn, Aurra gripped Harlene's hand. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I didn't tell you the complete truth last night, I…" she struggled for a moment and tried again. "I thought that…being with you…I thought it would hurt."

"That's understandable," Harlene whispered. "With everything you've been through and the fact that you're still a virgin."

Aurra gave a soft snort. "Virgin. Yeah, right. Several Sennex pirates would disagree with you."

"Fuck them, Aurra," Harlene said sharply. "You were nine when they kidnapped you, and in the years you were with them they made you believe sex and pain were synonymous. But you broke through that. You were afraid at first, but you didn't let them win. You didn't let what they did to you rule your life. You made that choice. And I'm very proud of you."

Aurra froze. She would die before admitting it to herself but despite her hatred, she would have done anything for the Dark Woman to say those words to her. And now that someone had, she found herself feeling very ambivalent. They had fulfilled a desperate need, but they also succeeded in breaking down more walls. Walls that had protected Aurra for decades. Granted, Harlene had been breaking down walls since the day they met, and it had been more than worth it. But if it continued like this, it was inevitable that more walls would break. And once they were broken they could never be rebuilt. She would be left vulnerable. Unprotected.

Weak.

"Aurra?"

But maybe she could worry about that later. Right now, all she wanted to do was bask in Harlene's presence and her touch.

"Just thinking," she muttered. A sigh escaped her. "I don't want this to end."

"It doesn't have to." A hand began caressing her stomach. "It's entirely up to you."

"Then I want to stay here forever," Aurra said. "I don't want to move either. I may wake up if I do."

"Still need more convincing, huh? Well, I'm happy to oblige."

The hand on her stomach suddenly grew far more gentle, provoking a gasp of laughter.

"Still not convinced?"

The girl's fingers began to softly tease her stomach muscles. While it was slightly embarrassing that unlike pain, no amount of will power could keep her from laughing, Aurra found the sensations to be quite enjoyable and comforting in an odd way. Being tickled was also a brand new experience, one that she knew she should have gone through in her childhood. Well, better late than never.

"Okay," she giggled after a few minutes. "I'm convinced."

Despite her words, she was a bit disappointed when Harlene stopped.

"Well, if you find yourself in doubt again, just tell me. It's fun convincing you."

"And you like it that you're the only one who can get away with it," Aurra pointed out dryly. "Anyone else tried to do that to me, I'd gouge out their eyes."

"And if you didn't like it, I would be no exception," Harlene replied even more dryly. "But you do like it along with several other methods of persuasion." The hand on her stomach cupped her breast once again. "And I'm more than happy to oblige."

It was enough to have the girl touch her there, but when she felt a thumb feather over her nipple, she was a goner. Harlene met her kiss eagerly.

"God, when you touch me…" Aurra rasped. "I feel like I'm on fire."

"Mmm," Harlene murmured. "Then allow me to stoke those flames."

With almost no sense of transition, Aurra found herself under Harlene; her back propped against the sofa's armrest. The girl wasted no time. She kissed Aurra's lips before moving to her cheeks, her forehead, her chin, her neck. When she reached her breasts, Aurra's hands clutched the girl's shirt, desperate for some form of anchor against the fire. The fire of pleasure. No, ecstasy. It was beautiful, it was addictive. She needed it, didn't care what happened so long as she got it.

Harlene was now at her stomach, her soft lips blessing every inch of skin she could find. When she kissed a particularly sensitive area right above Aurra's hip, the bounty hunter gasped.

"Just relax." Harlene's voice was barely above a whispered, but the heat of her breath seared Aurra's flesh. "Relax. And feel."

Yes, feel. And the only way to feel the fire was to let it consume her. Surrender, pure and unconditional. Nothing would matter after that.

Harlene was now kissing below her navel. Her fingers began to gently tug the bodysuit down.

Nothing would matter. Not if she lived…

Harlene tugged some more, a mere moment from fully exposing her.

…or died.

"Stop!" Aurra gasped. "Stop, stop!"

The girl immediately looked up, alarmed.

"Aurr—OOHHH!"

Heart racing, Aurra shot to her feet and walked away several steps all the while pulling up her bodysuit.

"Aurra, what the  _FUCK!?"_

She turned around. Harlene was on her knees holding her nose, blood seeping through her fingers. She looked absolutely livid.

Aurra glanced at her right hand, and spared a grimace for the crimson smear on her knuckles before turning back to Harlene. The girl was on her feet now and glaring fiercely at Aurra. Ignoring a wave of guilt, Aurra crossed her trembling arms over her ribs and set her jaw stubbornly.

"I told you to stop."

The words had barely left her mouth when Harlene's fist collided with her cheek. Just as she hit the ground, Harlene yanked her up by the throat.

"I  _did_  stop, you psychotic  _bitch,"_  she seethed. "I stopped exactly when you told me to."

With a contemptuous flick of her wrist, she threw Aurra away from her and only the superb reflexes of an elite assassin prevented a hard fall. Aurra rolled to her feet and cocked her body in a fighter's stance. When she met Harlene's eyes again, they were filled with twice the amount of pain and anger as before.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Aurra just stared at Harlene. The girl's touch was a gift beyond her wildest dreams, but she had never wanted to completely surrender to it. No matter how much it aroused her, no matter how much it comforted her, her survival instincts had always been able to kick in if she needed them to. And not a minute ago those instincts had been wiped from her mind. There had only been Harlene and the need for her touch. Total surrender. Total helplessness.

"What, you're just gonna stand there and stare at me?"

Never.

Aurra calmed her breathing and stood up straight.

"You shouldn't have tried to do that."

The girl gaped and for a moment, Aurra thought she would start raging again. Instead, her expression grew frigid in its blankness.

"That couldn't be more obvious."

Aurra nearly flinched as the knowledge of how much she had just hurt the one person in all the universe that she cared about began to sink in. She opened her mouth to apologize, but abruptly closed it. If she apologized, she would mean it with all her heart. The new wall between them would break down. And right now that wall was the only salvation against total helplessness.

Aurra Sing hardened her heart and wasn't surprised at how easy it was.

"You should go, Harlene."

The girl said nothing. She just disappeared.

xXx

Smith made Trent sit next to him in front of the flat screen. It was small and portable, but the image was crystal clear. So was the voice of the reporter covering the latest "Breaking News."

"A small group of soldiers from the infamous Congress of Aryan Alliances have seized control of the headquarters of Virtual Industries, one of the most influential divisions of VirTech."

Several people began to cheer, but Smith quickly shushed them. At least the bastard had some form of common sense. It wouldn't bode well for Alliance members to draw direct attention to themselves in shitblood territory.

"As of now, no ransom demands have been made. However, several deaths and injuries of company employees have been reported from those who succeeded in escaping—"

"Escape!? The fuck!?" Smith bellowed.

From Smith's other side, Sam caught his eye and smirked at him, smug and cruel.

An hour later, an interesting update came.

"Allied soldiers have breached the building and are currently battling the Alliance for control."

Smith was bellowing so loudly, the servers had to call the manager to get him to quiet down or kick him out. He did quiet down eventually, his fat, sweat-slicked face glaring desperately at the screen.

"It's all right," he whispered hoarsely. "Jesus is on our side. Blessed Christ is with us. Not with them. Not with those niggers and kikes. He is here with me."

Longhorn was an all night bar, so they could stay glued to the screen. Update after update came and just as the sun barely peeked over the horizon, the reporter read Randall Smith's death sentence.

"Remaining Alliance soldiers have been reported dead. Total casualties are unknown, but Virtual Industries has been retaken by Allied soldiers."

The reporter began to exchange words or relief and triumph with his colleagues, but no one was listening. They were all staring at Smith who was white as a ghost and glassy-eyed. His sweat-soaked armpits and groin gave off the smell of a dead man.

"Wasn't my fault," he mumbled. "Need to tell them…did everything they said…security impeccable…wasn't my fault. Wasn't my fault!"

He nearly knocked Trent over in his haste to get up. His mumbling grew to wails of terror as he raced from the bar.

"Think he'll run?" someone asked.

"There's nowhere he can go where they won't find him. If they have to, they'll send Kemp."

Trent spared a mere second of pity for Smith at the mention of Kemp's name before getting up himself.

"I'm outta here," he said and left.

xXx

Harlene stirred her drink and didn't look up when Noelle sat down next to her.

"You're too young for that."

"It's diluted," Harlene replied shortly before taking a sip. "And who's gonna tell?"

"Mmm," the older girl mused thoughtfully. "Somebody's getting wild." She inched closer. "In how many ways exactly?"

"More than one," Harlene said without emotion.

Noelle clicked her tongue sympathetically. "Well, Maul's just a kid. Give him time—"

"Not Maul," Harlene cut her off. "Aurra."

"And?" Noelle pressed, not missing a beat. "The lesbo thing just doesn't do it for you?"

"Oh, it was just fine. Right up until she punched me off her."

"Well, fuck that cunt then!" Noelle spat, enraged. "Please tell me you at least hit her back."

"I did. And I'm gonna give her plenty of time to think about what she did."

"I wondered why our latest CAA bust didn't have you grinning like the psycho that you are. Well, cheer up and count your blessings. Not many can brag about having a male harem and even less can brag about having a willing one."

"They aren't my slaves," Harlene hissed so vehemently that Noelle blinked. "Second, Nick's out of the picture, which leaves only Maul. Or have you recently coined the saying 'one is a harem?'"

"S'not just Maul. There's also the tribal leader of the apocalypse, and the whiny little bitch. Oh, please, Harlene, they want you just as badly as Maul does. And we both know Nick would take you back in a snap."

"Kar doesn't feel that way about me. He's said so more than once. And we both know Anakin is irreversibly wrapped around Oobadooba's pussy little fingers."

Noelle smiled. "I get it. You're not insecure, you just don't want to put your feminine wiles on a pedestal. Well, listen to some grown-up advice baby sister. Evolution is evolution. We're human. Or I should say sentient. Anyway, we're born to want to fuck, and we all have certain qualities that rev up those genes in one another. Some more than others. In your case, it's way more than others." She put her face close to Harlene's. "To sum it up, men (and women) are going to react to you. A lot of men. Deal with it, or ignore it, but at least know that it exists."

In her usual tactless way of ending conversations, Noelle pulled out her comm and raised it to her eye. Harlene thought in silence for a while, but her friend's laughter prompted a response.

"Something funny?"

"This new YouTube user, Cody Harrington. Roan told me about him. Little kid, but smart. Knows his stuff. And he's on our side too. Check him out when you get the chance."

"Yeah," Harlene said.

With considerable effort, she forced herself not to start brooding again. What that bitch did had nothing to do with her. If she was so spineless and selfish as to tell Harlene to go away instead of apologizing or at least explaining herself, then that wasn't Harlene's problem. The hunting trip was nothing, too. She could learn more from Claire than she could ever learn from Aurra anyway.

The first half of the day was supposed to be vacation time, but she realized she needed another outlet if she wanted to fully recover. Ranting in her new audio diary helped quite a bit, but it wasn't enough. Since she had already gotten her pound of flesh from Dooku, she decided to ask Claire to start their training session early and her mentor was happy to oblige. Harlene went to the virtual dojo and found it empty.

Save for a beautiful, black grand piano sitting smack dab in the middle.

"What the hell…?"

Despite her bafflement, her feet on their own accord carried her over to the instrument. It really was beautiful. And apart from the violin, it was her favorite instrument to listen to. The ivory keys gleamed temptingly at her, and in a moment, she found she didn't at all care about her severely limited knowledge of music. Sitting down, she let her hands hover over the keys before pressing them down.

The responding sound was nothing short of hideous, but even as it echoed off the walls, she felt herself smiling. Choosing a different area, she pressed again. And again. And again. Some sounded terrible, some okay, some quite lovely. As she continued to randomly test the keys, she found herself committing the lovely sounds to memory.

"Like it?"

Her head snapped around. Claire was standing behind her, a satisfied smile on her face.

"I hoped you would."

Realization dawning, Harlene smiled as well. "Is learning the piano a new requirement for Error Correctors?"

"No, but I have found it to be a positive outlet," Claire replied walking over to her. "And in times like these, we need all the positive outlets we can get."

Harlene looked at her mentor, then back at the piano. She already loved music and was continuing to develop her singing voice, but she had never considered playing an instrument before. But if she practiced in a virtual room, two hours could be ten minutes in the real world…

Aurra's face flashed in her mind, cold and remorseless.

"You should go, Harlene."

"Maybe later," Harlene said, getting up. "Right now I want to spar."

"Well, we're not going to. You're going to spend an hour on that piano with Richard here."

A man appeared next to Claire. He was elderly, probably mid-seventies, early eighties and had a very kind face.

"Hi, there!" he greeted.

"Hi." Harlene smiled politely before narrowing her eyes at Claire. "I appreciate what you're trying to do and I'll consider it." She began to get up. "But for now, I want to spar."

"And I said we're not going to," Claire repeated patiently.

"Fine, I'll ask—"

"No." An edge of sharpness entered Claire's voice. "You need to play the piano."

A novel, almost eager feeling began to rise up in Harlene. She stood up and smiled. "And if I don't?"

"Don't waste that rebellious teenager smile on me, apprentice. I'm not going to make you do anything. If you want to sneer 'you're not the boss of me!' and walk away, then I won't stop you."

Harlene realized that a part of her want to do exactly that. Embarrassed, she sat back down and asked calmly, "Why?"

"Like I said before, we need positive outlets if we're going to survive what is to come with a reasonable part of our sanity still intact. Right now, you're still hurting from what Aurra did to you. So I want you to try to channel your passion into that piano."

Harlene looked at the piano and then began banging on it as hard as she could. When no one stopped her, she continued for almost five minutes, letting the horrible, chaotic sounds beat against her senses. Breathing slightly labored, she leaned against the instrument. The keys felt cool under her hot, trembling fingers.

"Feel good?" Claire asked softly.

Clenching and unclenching her hands, Harlene forced her breathing under control.

"Yeah," she said, and then blinked in amazement. "Yeah," she repeated even louder. "But not nearly as good as ripping Dooku a new one."

"Dooku was an outside outlet for your passion after you broke up with Nick—"

"—and for his role in Maul's near mind-rape—"

"—and in releasing it, you unlocked a great power within you. But outside outlets won't always be there for you. You need to be able to discover them within yourself to retain a proper balance. If you continue to rely on outside outlets, you'll eventually grow dependent on them to the point where you won't care who or what they are. Remember Montross?"

Harlene nodded while riding out a wave of old shame. "I've changed since then."

"You've changed remarkably, but you still have a way to go. In channeling your passion into something creative, you'll become stronger. And you'll inflict less self-damage when battling against adversity."

Harlene nodded again. "The Politician said that people need to embrace their creativity; they need to find outlets for their true nature. If they don't, they become psychopaths. Huh." Harlene gave a short, ironic laugh. "A path to the dark side."

"Well, that won't happen to you," Claire said. "Not if you let it." She gestured to Richard who sat in a chair beside Harlene's stool. "Richard will not only teach you how to play, but he'll also teach you theory. Meaning if you grow to love it, you'll be able to write your own music in the future."

Harlene laughed. "That remains to be seen."

"Indeed it does." Claire smiled and left.

"Okay, then." Richard smiled and patted Harlene's arm. "Ready to begin?"

Harlene couldn't help but smiled back. "Yep. Teach me. I'm a Tabula Rasa."

He laughed and put his finger over the keys. "First, we'll start with the C Major scale."

xXx

"Trent. Trent, wait!"

He ignored her and continued to walk to his car.

"Goddammit, will you just wait for fuck's sake!"

"Go gloat to someone who gives a shit," Trent threw over his shoulder.

"I'm not gonna gloat, and you do give a shit!" Sam grabbed his arm and spun him around. She was flustered and it made her look terrible instead of alluring. "We need to take over VirTech if we're gonna win, but we never will if this shitblood rat keeps fucking everything up! Trent, we got what we needed from the Virus Creed. I don't know why the Grand Dragon's don't just shoot 'em in their sleep!"

"Maybe 'cause they aren't stupid enough to sleep in front of us. Ever think of that?" Trent shook his head disgustedly.

"They need to die, Trent! If we can find solid evidence—"

"It wouldn't mean shit," Trent cut her off. "And you know why."

Sam scowled. "Yeah, yeah. The Daemon Virus. We still don't have it yet."

"Maybe you should spread your legs for Iron Hand. Heard she likes that kind of thing."

"I would spread my legs for her if that's what it took," Sam hissed. "I'll do anything for the white race. Would you?"

Trent crossed the distance between them and bore his eyes into hers.

"You ever ask me that again, and I'll make you piss raspberry juice for a month."

"If you will do anything, then you'll help me." She was trembling slightly, but her jaw remained set. "Forget evidence, Trent. Let's get the Daemon Virus."

Before his failure at DreamWorks Games, he would have thought someone must have finally fucked her brains clean from her skull. Her words caused him to be aware of a niggling feeling in the back of his mind. He was missing something important.

"We can do it," Sam continued excitedly, apparently interpreting his silence as consideration. "Iron Hand keeps a lab right in our headquarters. We probably could've gotten it years ago, but we needed those shitbloods to train our soldiers."

Iron Hand. Yes, Iron Hand. The traitor who chose to bow down to the impure was the key. Those cold groping fingers of hers, those cold hawk-like gray eyes, that cold metallic voice…

You're a lucky bastard. The last one was almost a vegetable when I examined her.

"…Probably planning right now. They know it's the right time. But we've got to beat them! We get the Daemon Virus…"

You were just laid out all nice and trussed up by your bosses for  _me._  If you're so retarded that you can't see that, then it's obvious you didn't escape the military from your latest raid; they must have let you go.

"…legends, Trent, legends. The Alliance will win because of us. We could have anything we wanted. You won't be in it alone. I promise…"

That cold, metallic laugh.

Of course they let you go. They had everything they needed. Maybe they're as retarded as you.

They had everything they needed…

"…hear a lot of things so…Trent? Hello, anybody home? Hey! Trent! Don't you run away from me! Goddamn you, DONT YOU RUN AWAY FROM ME!"

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

" **Happy with your fireworks so far?"**

" **They're your fireworks too, you know."**

" **And I already know how I feel about them."**

" **You know you need to be extra careful now. I'm not even as close as you are and yet I can hear the sound of inbred rats scratching in the distance."**

" **But several inbred rats have been permanently removed from the chorus, including Randall Jabba the Hutt Smith."**

" **That alone will get the president off my back for a while. You can wait a bit longer to stumble across information this time."**

" **A vacation? Pull the other one, if you please. I just polished the Christmas bells on it."**

" **Our kind never gets vacations. I mean it: be careful."**

" **You're right. They're not as stupid as we'd like them to be."**

" **Fortunately they won't risk an open battle until they have the Daemon Virus. But you will have to deal with far more trouble than you deserve from now on."**

" **Truth be told, I'm morbidly curious. They'll have to try something subtle, which is a word whose definition has never fully registered in their minds."**

" **In the Grand Dragon's minds. In the generals' minds. Only the ones who possess the lowest ranks have shown any trace of true subtly."**

" **Your apprentice was right. Irony _is_  the most beautiful thing in existence."**

**xXx**

Because of Harlene, Darth Maul possessed a reasonable amount of experience with ambivalence. Unfortunately, as with her paradoxical nature, said experience was not nearly enough to prepare him for the latest dosage he received upon her next visit. Her greeting was the same, as was her smile. But when he marched right up to her, her expression became guarded, as if bracing herself for anything, including an explosion.

As well she should. By the Force, he wanted to explode, to express his rage regarding the idiocy of her secrecy. How dare she not inform him that her life was in jeopardy? She knew very well he could aid her in protecting it. That he  _would_  aid her in protecting it. Such illogical behavior was unforgivable. And he would tell her so right now as she stood there, healthy, whole, alive, and here with him. He would tell her what a reckless, stupid, idiotic fool she was. He would grab her and shake her, and demand what insanity could have possessed her to wait this long to tell him. What he wouldn't do was grab her, bury his face against her neck, and savor the fact that she was here with him and not dead, not stolen from him, without so much as saying a single word…

_Who the hell do you think you're fooling?_

His responding growl was muffled against Harlene's neck, but she still heard it.

"Maul?"

Breathing hard, he pulled away without letting her go.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

At least his tone managed to convey his anger. But it also conveyed something far deeper, something that seemed to tear at his very hearts: betrayal.

"I—I wanted to. Before," she said quietly, not quite meeting his eyes. "It's just…you were dealing with so much. I didn't want to add another burden so soon."

Had he fully believed her, his rage would have been so great he would have given her a beating she would never forget. "My burdens," he bit out, "are meaningless against your safety. You know this as well as I. Now, I ask again: why did you not tell me?"

"First of all," her voice was sharp and icy, "your burdens being meaningless compared to my safety is  _your_ opinion alone. I have a drastically different one. Secondly, I just answered your question twice over. I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner, and I admit, I probably should have."

" _Probably!"_

"All right, I should have told you sooner. I should have told you the moment I saw you right before you punched me in the face. Happy?"

"Do not be flippant with me!" he snarled. "I know very well you have already informed your other acquaintances whom you trust…Anakin Skywalker…" He trailed off, unable to continue due to a violent surge of loathing and jealousy.

Harlene sighed. "Maul, it had nothing to do with a lack of trust."

"I should not think so," Maul grated. "You heard my oath to you. You know you have my unbounded loyalty and implicit trust. I merely thought I…" He struggled and forced himself to finish. "…received the impression that at least a sliver of that trust was requited."

She touched his face. "It's more than a sliver. A lot more. I trust you with my life, Maul. And Anakin doesn't know either. I don't plan on telling him for the same reason I didn't tell you earlier. Contrary to what you believe, I don't value him more than you."

When he saw that she was telling the truth, the tidal wave of fury barely kept at bay unleashed itself like a starved reek breaking free of its cage. Even her last statement did nothing to contain it.

"Maul." Harlene's voice was very low. "I should have told you earlier. But I didn't, and you smacking me out of this bubble isn't going to change that. But if your anger at me is more important to you than my life, then we can go at it right now."

It was as if she had doused his fury with liquid nitrogen. He stood there in silence for a while, trembling from the shock of his rapidly changing emotions before he broke her gaze in pure shame.

"Forgive me," he whispered.

"I do." She touched his cheek again. "Can you forgive me for not telling you earlier?"

"There is nothing to forgive," he said, forcing himself to meet her eyes. "Your reasons are your own. It is not my place to—"

"Hey," she said sharply. "What did I tell you the last time I was here? We still need to work on your approach, but you can always question me and you can always tell me if something's bothering you. And I'll say this again too: I promise you that I didn't tell you before due to a lack of trust. Do you believe me?"

He gave a single nod. "I do."

"Good." She smiled. "Now then, it's time for us to have another discussion."

His eyes went wide with anger and dismay. "Harlene, we have no time for discussions. I have already prepared several lessons. There is so much for me to teach you and your enemies could strike at any moment."

"They're striking as we speak," she said seriously. "And that's all the more reason we need to have this particular discussion right now. There are some things you need to know about me. Things that can help you teach me. Things that…I really, really need to get off my chest."

Her face was weary, but also pleading. Maul knew that the discussion she had in mind would not consist mostly of a lecture on his behalf. This was about her.

"Very well, then," he said.

"Thank you." She waved her hand and this time, a single sofa appeared instead of two chairs opposing each other. She sat down and Maul right next to her. "First of all, I…" she broke his gaze and stared at her hands gripping her knees. "…I want to tell you why I reacted the way I did after I found out about your horns."

Maul blinked in astonishment, but remained silent as she told him about her peers, Dooku, Vergere, and even her mentor, Claire Selton.

"I couldn't see it before because I thought I knew. I thought it all came from what happened to me. But I was so wrong. After you died, I realized how strong our bond was despite…well, you know. Before you, I had never shared such a bond with another person that wasn't based on mutual love or implicit trust. Of course you didn't love me, and the trust we shared was incredibly rocky. Back then, I couldn't trust you with my life, and I sure as hell couldn't trust you with my emotions. There was only one thing I could trust you completely with. Like I said, they all mocked me and did everything they could to shake my faith in your honor, but I wouldn't hear a word against it. To me it would have been the ultimate betrayal of your memory. I felt so righteous in standing up for you, so satisfied when I got mad enough to physically hurt someone for what they said about you. And when I found out about your horns it was like…in that one moment you proved them all right. More than anything I…I wanted you to pay for that."

She looked at him, wearily waiting for a response. But she didn't get one right away. Maul was rendered speechless due to his fury on her behalf. Her own comrades had spat upon her honor not because of logical evidence, but because she had been a child and he an adult. No. Because they were nothing more than despicable cowards who would taste the end of his blade should they ever cross his path.

"I believed my opinion of your comrades could sink no lower. It seems I was gravely mistaken."

"Not all of them are like that," she assured him. "In fact, a few that made fun of me before are even starting to mature."

"That is irrelevant," he spat. "They dishonored you and I…" He looked away, jaw clenching in shame. "…I did prove them—"

She grabbed his face with both hands, her own black with fury. "Maul, I swear to God, if you even think of completing that sentence…" she took several short deep breaths before continuing. "This is the last time I'm gonna let that go, you understand?  _I_  let them get to me,  _I_  let them poison me against you,  _I_  blinded myself because I thought it was all about my pride,  _I_  did and no one else. And one more thing: I was proud to stand up for you. I am proud to stand up for you and I always will be."

She released him. Maul experienced a variety of emotions that soon melded into an odd calmness that was as potent as the depths of his rage.

"As am I," he uttered. "Those who question your honor shall receive no mercy at my hand. Their deaths will be swift and imminent. To this I swear on my life."

Her brow rose. "Wow. And I thought I was a drama queen. Oh, lighten up, Maul," she said with a short laugh when he bared his teeth. "Let's face it, if these discussions of ours get any more angsty or intense, we may as well have them on a stage instead of a sofa!"

She laughed again, apparently quite amused at the thought.

"Do you doubt my word?" he demanded in a furious hiss.

"I think I'll pretend you didn't ask that," she said, far more coolly. "Instead, I'll move to the next subject of our discussion: the Jedi. Lower your hackles, Maul, it's not what you think. In fact, you of all people should know better."

"And why is that?" Maul said derisively.

"Maul." Her tone was very dark. "Even when I thought you betrayed me, I slaughtered five Jedi Masters when they tried to rape your mind. Please don't make me ask if you can add one plus one. I really, really prefer reserving questions like that for idiots like Nute Gunray."

Breathing was suddenly quite difficult. It couldn't be true…

"We were in a bubble." His voice was so hoarse he could barely recognize it. "They were not the real…not the ones you worship…"

"Bubble or no bubble, they are still and always will be the twisted, sanctimonious, self-righteously hypocritical, dogmatic, self-absorbed, tyrannical, uncaring sons of bitches that they are. Their location is utterly irrelevant."

Breathing was now quite impossible. He knew he wasn't dreaming because dreams were not the wondrous escapes from reality that so many beings made them out to be. This was reality. This was…this was…

"When you're quite finished impersonating a whale shark trying to swallow an entire school of krill," Harlene's dry voice cut into his hazy mind, "you can begin the gloating speech I'm sure you've scripted out ever since you started training me. I'll even give you a boost: you were right about the Jedi, Maul. In fact, you were understating quite a bit."

She wasn't wrong. He  _had_  been planning what he would say should this day ever come for quite a while now. In fact, the words quickly moved from his mind to the tip of his tongue due to an almost overwhelming amount of gleeful triumph and smug,  _smug_  satisfaction. How he had longed for this day, how he had longed to tell her what a fool she was for placing such a sickening amount of faith in those sanctimonious hypocrites. How he had longed to see her humbled before his superior insight and intelligence. It was exactly what he dreamed of, exactly what he wanted. He opened his mouth…

…and felt his jaw freeze.

There was no anger on her face for him, only resignation and acceptance. She knew very well what he wanted to say, what he was aching to say, and she would let him. She would take whatever he would give without so much as a complaint.

That was when the words died on his tongue and in his mind. This was not how he envisioned this moment. She was supposed to be angry at him for being right. That was to be his triumph, that she would hate him for proving her to be false over such a strong issue. But she wasn't angry at him. Her anger was directed solely at herself. She knew she was wrong and was fully prepared to accept the consequences.

_Hate her,_  Lord Sidious crooned in his mind.  _She has robbed you of your triumph. She deserves no less._

_(If your anger at me is more important to you than my life, then we can go at it right now.)_

"Then you are free."

Harlene blinked. "What?"

Maul stared at her intently. "You have broken through their web of deception. No longer can they harm you with their lies. You are free."

For a long time, she just stared at him blankly. Then she blinked  _very_  slowly.

"Who the fuck are you, and what the fuck have you done with Darth Maul?"

Maul bared his teeth. "Make no mistake: I have been aching for this moment since before I started training you. But…it is clear to me that you fully comprehend the error of your ways. To gloat or to express excessive triumph would serve no purpose. You know the Jedi for what they truly are now. That is all that matters."

She was pale with shock and looked as if she was about to repeat her previous question. Then she smiled.

"Thank you, Maul."

A mere three words. And yet the amount of respect in them made him forget his previous anger at his denied triumph.

"You must tell me," he said fervently. "What made you see the truth?"

She sighed and looked away. "You might say it was a series of instances that all came together at once. In a way it was. But there was one particular one, one particular catalyst…" Her jaw clenched. "It was a few months ago. The Jedi and the Republic had suffered massive losses at the hands of a particularly violent, bloodthirsty Separatist commander by the name of General Grievous. He was such an efficient Jedi killer that a group of Jedi suggested to the council that they should organize a team of covert assassins to take him out. Yoda immediately shot the idea down, saying that assassination wasn't the Jedi way. But the group knew it was their best chance so they went ahead without the council's permission. To make a long story short, they didn't succeed in killing Grievous. In fact only one member of the group survived; a Togruta by the name of Codi Ty. But they managed to rescue a group of young Padawans that Grievous had intended to use as experiments. Codi returned to the council with the Padawans alone. He asked for no mercy for himself for defying the council and no mercy was exactly what he got. They banned him from the Jedi Order." She clenched her fists until her knuckles cracked. "Even though they failed, those Jedi did exactly what they should have done. Grievous always fled a battle when the odds tipped in Republic favor. Assassination was the best chance they had at killing him. And to rescue Padawans—the  _future_ of the Jedi Order from torment and death…" She trailed off, her rage making further speech impossible.

Maul too was enraged. While it was true that all Jedi must die, there were some who were worthy of honor whether for their ingenuity, skill, or resourcefulness. Now it seemed he would have to add disobedience to self-righteous dogma and plain common sense to that list. But his anger took a turn when he realized something else.

"A few months ago…" He stared hard at her. "Your feelings for the Jedi changed before I was resurrected."

"Yes," she confirmed.

"And what," he said in a deadly whisper, "made you decide I was unworthy to know this before? I assure you this knowledge would not have burdened me in the slightest."

"No, I'm sure it would have had you skipping with glee," Harlene said dryly. "But thankfully, you seem to have gained a shred of maturity since then."

"You are not answering my question," Maul said sharply. "Why did you not inform me of this?"

"Because the thought of you skipping with glee is quite traumatic, Maul. I'm sure you understand." Her eyes narrowed. "Don't look at me that way. I am not obligated to tell you anything about my personal life. Whatever occurs in it is your business when I decide it's your business. Yes, we're growing closer every day, but we are not friends, Maul. The only two things I owe you are respect and some trust."

_Some_  trust.

"What is it you do not trust me with?"

"My emotions," she said flatly. "And my overall psychological well-being."

"I assure you," Maul bit out, "I have no desire to cause you unnecessary pain, be it physical or mental."

"And there's the problem," Harlene said. "Our opinions on emotion radically differ in several areas. Until we can find some common ground in said areas, it'll be impossible for me to open up to you completely."

"What areas?"

"Compassion for instance. You still think it's nothing but a weakness."

"It  _is_  nothing more than a weakness. It is a fact that it's nothing more than a weakness. You cannot compromise facts, Harlene. You either accept them or you choose not to."

"Really," she drawled out. "Let me tell you something, Maul. When our relationship began to progress, I did enjoy your attention but I never appreciated your obsession with me. I loathed it in all its twisted glory. You think I don't know how you reveled in your dominance over me after I fell asleep on the  _Scimitar?_  You think I don't know you fanaticized about breaking my neck every time you touched it? Oh, yes, Maul." She smiled grimly at his shock. "I knew all about that. I was naïve about several things as a child, but never about what you were, and what you were capable of."

After beating down an unexpected wave of shame, Maul demanded, "Then why did you permit my touch? Why did you allow yourself to fall asleep in my presence?"

"For the first question, because I knew that wasn't the only reason you touched me. Or am I wrong?" After several moments, her eyes narrowed. "That's not a rhetorical question. The days of me going easy on you are over, Maul. Am. I. Wrong?"

He clenched his jaw. "No," he said, unable to meet her eyes.

She touched his chin and gently nudged his head upward. "Then tell me the other reason you touched me."

He stared into her beautiful black eyes and fed off the strength in them. It muted Sidious's laughter to the point where he could bear to answer.

"I touched you because I desired to. Your presence…your warmth beneath my hand…I felt content when I touched you. I felt…comforted."

He practically had to yank the last word out of his mouth. Harlene smiled.

"I know," she said. "And there's the answer to your first question. As for the second one, yes, I hated your obsession with me, yes, I hated that I was a possession to you, but even then, I couldn't deny that we had something that wasn't twisted or dysfunctional. I couldn't deny that we had something…sacred. I didn't know what it was, but it made me trust you, made me feel safe around you. Despite your love of the power you had over me, I felt I could be in a vulnerable state around you without sacrificing my self-respect." She gave a crooked, almost embarrassed smile. "Does that make some sense, or I am just babbling?"

"No," he said quickly. Realizing his voice was somewhat hushed, he repeated the denial again more loudly. "No, you were…quite eloquent."

"Well, that's good to know." She leaned back against the couch and raised her arms over her head. On their own violation, Maul's eyes trailed down the arch of her back as she stretched the tension out of her muscles. "I also hope you're making the connection to our discussion about compassion," she added after sighing in relief.

He frowned. "There is a connection, but it will never change the fact that compassion is nothing but a weakness."

"And so it deserves nothing but your contempt and scorn," Harlene finished.

"Yes."

She inched her face toward his. "Maul, I can tolerate your contempt for compassion. Misguided as it is, you have a right to your own opinion. And even if I don't agree with it, I still respect it. What I don't tolerate is self-righteous hypocrisy. Compassion is the reason I was able to defy my common sense when it told me time and time again to leave you and never look back. Compassion is the reason you were able to feel content and comfort when you touched me. Compassion is the reason you are not going insane from loneliness right now. Hate it if you want to, but you owe it respect if only for the fact that you benefit from it. That you crave it." She inched her face closer until their noses were practically touching. "And you owe me respect for being your sole provider."

xXx

While it was the dream of many a human being to make history, Cody Harrington thought being the first twelve-year-old boy to skip (and grin) all the way to detention wouldn't exactly do wonders for his rep. And, man, what a rep it was becoming! One week, five videos, and over one-hundred million hits later, he felt like he was in a dream. He activated his comm and refreshed his YouTube page.

One-hundred thousand more views in the last hour.

He covered his mouth. Being the first twelve-year-old boy to giggle on his way to detention would utterly decimate his rep before he could even blink. Then again no one was around, so—

He giggled. Then he proceeded to skip. He only stopped when he saw Boogerman morphing out of the edge of his peripheral vision.

"Mr. Harrington. I trust you are on your way to my classroom?"

Despite his incredibly good mood, Cody managed to school his features into a contrite expression.

"Yes, sir."

"Proceed, then."

Cody shoved his hands into his pockets. The purpose in doing so was to quickly hide his comm, but it was an added bonus that it completed the aura of surliness he intended to portray. He quietly entered Boogerman's office and stood beside his desk.

"You know what to do, Mr. Harrington."

Cody glanced at the boxes of datapads beside his desk, each one containing a school textbook. They were all smeared with skin oil, food, and God knew what else. On top of one of them was a rag stained with grease, cleaning solution, and God knew what else. He sat at his desk, picked up the rag and a datapad, and got to work.

While his hands were cleaning school textbooks, his mind was brainstorming ideas for his latest video. Talking about the Error Correctors was quickly earning him Internet stardom, and while that couldn't be more awesome, he hadn't lost focus at all. What he was doing far surpassed his previous cleansing rituals. People were listening to him. They were praising him for his insights and ideas, though he grimaced as he thought of some chick named jasminebieber who constantly spammed him with messages like "OMG u r so CUUUUTTTTTEEEE!" And she was far from the only one.

Christ.

But he was doing something meaningful at long last, though it was still a wonder why his videos in particular were becoming so popular so quickly. His sister Kayla had offered some interesting insights as to why the night before last.

" _You're twelve."_

" _SonofCharlie's twelve, and he worships the Error Correctors! He raves about them in all of his videos!"_

" _There's your answer. He raves, you talk. And that's still pretty rare in brats your age."_

It was true. He did talk about a great many things. He talked about the hypocrisy of the people who were screaming for government dismantlement because of the Error Correctors ("Kids younger than the Error Correctors have been running their own Internet businesses for decades.  _They_  haven't followed child labor laws. You know how many human rights activists have bitched about them? That's right. None. In this day in age, everyone plays the games. Read my flapping lips. Games. Are. Work. You can hire yourself or you can let someone else hire you. What's wrong with the government doing a little hiring? I thought government was supposed to create jobs!"), he denounced the so-called glamour of the Error Corrector's lives ("Hey, I've always wanted to sit down and sip a margarita with Megatron if it wasn't for the fact that he'd blow my fucking head off if I ever came within fifty feet of him! And the Error Correctors have to interact with guys worse than Megatron. They have to. They don't have a choice."), and most of all, he emphasized the necessity of the Error Correctors ("The Congress of Aryan Alliances would fork over every penny they have in exchange for the Error Corrector's heads. The Congress of Aryan Alliances, who wants to kill every single human being on this planet who is not white. Even if you're so blind and stupid that you don't see how much the realities have benefitted our society, that fact alone should speak volumes of the Error Corrector's worth.")

But maybe he should start talking about the Alliance more. People were still buying into their retarded propaganda, including his own classmates.

Cody grimaced as he experienced a wave of nausea that had nothing to do with the slimy yellow goo smeared onto one of the textbooks he was cleaning. Another reason he was determined to put up with Boogerman's blackmail was because it gave him an excuse to hang around school until those older students held their little recruitment meetings. They had been going on every day since his detention started, and he had recorded all of them on his comm.

Cody's rag hand froze over the datapad screen. He could upload all of them onto his YouTube channel. The thought was more than tempting, especially when he remembered that his sister had nearly gone out with one of them. But so far, they hadn't said anything he hadn't already heard from the Alliance a hundred million times over. And if he was patient, there was a strong possibility they would end up saying or doing something truly incriminating. Then he could drop the bomb on them. Posting them now would only alert them, and they could find another place to hold their meetings. It would be best to wait.

When the last of the sun's rays began to disappear under the horizon, his detention was finally over. He slung his bag over his shoulder and proceeded to exit the classroom.

"Mr. Harrington?"

Good Christ, what now?

Boogerman's footsteps inched closer behind him. Cody turned around, determined not to get caught off guard.

"I have always pegged you as a brat determined to cause trouble no matter the consequences," his teacher intoned. "But what you're doing right now goes far, far beyond tweeting in class."

Cody blinked. Boogerman had seen his videos? Guess he shouldn't be surprised. Feeling defiant, he smirked.

"Gonna give me more detention?"

"Mr. Harrington, even if I had the power to expel you, I wouldn't." Boogerman's responding smirk radiated a menace that made Cody want to cringe. "You would be gone from this school forever, only to go to another where the residing hands may not be nearly as firm as they should be. Nor the lessons learned. You need to stay here, Mr. Harrington, where you can be properly educated by me and by yourself."

Cody just stared at him.

"You're confused, aren't you? Then allow me to explain. I can give you detention, but something as abstract and common as detention would never hinder your thirst for trouble. Quite the contrary, I'm encouraging it. Every night when you leave this classroom, you smirk and skip to yourself, reveling in your triumph over Big Bad Boogerman. I doubt you've ever dabbled in drugs, but it's almost like a high, isn't it? And after every high, you inevitably crave it more. But the only way you can get it would be to take bigger risks, poke your fingers deeper into the eyes of fiercer dragons. But these dragons aren't chained. They have no jurisdiction, no matter how much you delude yourself otherwise. They will wake up when you dig your fingers in too deep, and they won't rip your head off. They'll make you  _wish_  they had ripped your head off."

The silence that followed hung between them like a gaping void of empty space. Finally, Cody let out a whistle.

"Jesus.  _You_ should have auditioned for  _The Silence of the Lambs._  Anthony Hopkins wouldn't have stood a chance."

He ran away before Boogerman had a chance to retaliate. Despite his smart-ass comment, he couldn't deny the sadist had just scared the crap out of him. Another thought scared him even more: was Boogerman part of the Alliance? He looked white, but looks could be deceiving. He made a mental note to ask mercedessalander, one of his Twitter followers, for a favor when he got home. As a skilled hacker, she could check Boogerman's background to see if he was white, and worse, if he was part of the Alliance.

Flipping out his comm, he checked the time. Kayla would be here in about twenty minutes. That was good. He had a meeting to record.

xXx

She was on her knees, head bowed, her back heaving with every heavy breath she took. But she was not the only one breathing heavily. Her breaths were matched almost perfectly with his own. Almost. And as much as that exhilarated him, he could not deny that it unnerved him somewhat. Ignorance was the culprit of course. The first time she had shown him her power, he had been unnerved as he had never encountered so young a being wielding such power. And a mere few years later, her power and skill had grown beyond his wildest imagination. True, she was on her knees while he was standing, but the Force was the only thing keeping him on his feet. That fact more than any other unnerved him, but that would fade very quickly. He could never fear her.

After several moments, her head lifted. She pushed herself up, gritting her teeth with effort, and made it to her feet. Her breaths had not softened and her face was paler than ever with fatigue. A stark contrast to her eyes; black as night and blazing with a determination that bordered on madness. Her right hand clutching her lightsaber rose several inches.

But Maul held up his hand, not his blade. "Enough," he said through his own breaths. "I have no desire to cause you unnecessary pain. Your progression far exceeds expectations. I know if the situation demanded it, your pain would vanish in the face of your strength."

For a moment, he thought she would attack him anyway. He couldn't deny that no small part of him was hoping that she would. What would it be like to unleash every last drop of energy until they both sank into oblivion? Intoxicating at the very least. He would know her limit, which was one of her greatest secrets.

However, he also knew that he would probably end up maiming her in the process. And bubbles were fickle. She may not be able to re-grow severed limbs here.

He was both relieved and disappointed when she lowered her blade, extinguished it, and let out a particularly labeled breath.

"Yeah." Her voice came out barely above a whisper. "Yeah, you're right." She looked up and a small smile shone through her fatigue. "Claire…once told me…'there is a difference, apprentice…between stubbornness…that can save your life…and…idle stupidity."

Maul nodded and extinguished his own blade. "There is no pain where strength lies. But I will not deny those words hold no small amount of wisdom."

Her smiled widened. She took a deep breath and straightened herself up. Her comm conjured in her free hand. She raised it to her eye and whistled.

"Nine hours." She lowered the device and grinned at him. "It's a new record."

Maul was astonished. He had pushed himself to the limits in his training with only the Force to sustain him countless times before. In fact, it was a ritual he made sure to follow at least fifteen times a year. A couple of months before his demise at the hands of the Jedi neophyte, he discovered that he could go for fourteen hours before the exhaustion became paralyzing. In his current state, he estimated he could barely go for one more hour.

"Maul?"

He stared at her, then slowly dropped to one knee. He remained there for less than ten seconds, but when he rose, he saw that she understood. In response, she pressed her lightsaber to her forehead and bowed low to him.

"I should have done that when you gave it back to me," she said with a hint of self-recrimination.

"This is a more worthy time," Maul insisted. His voice was calm, but he greedily bathed in her respect.

"If you say so." She closed her eyes, took yet another deep breath, and opened them again. "I don't know about you, but I think we'll both sleep very well tonight."

Maul glanced to his left and saw that the sun had already set.

"Meet you in an hour?" Harlene asked.

Maul acquiesced, and they both went to their separate rooms. The warm spray of water soothed muscles deeply strained from not only the intense training, but the emotions that had raced through him during their battles. He hadn't been able to focus them properly, and the lack of control angered him. Even more so were the revelations he could no longer deny.

He owed his sanity to compassion.

He owed his current purpose to compassion.

He  _craved_  compassion.

Despite Harlene's point-blank refusal to cease discussion until her point was made, she had ended their latest conversation by telling him to simply think hard about what she said. He could not do otherwise no matter how loathsome or humiliating his thoughts grew. Compassion. The word itself had been either one of two things for as long as he could remember: a curse to be uttered, or a weakness to be exploited.

" _I won't deny that compassion can be a weakness. It can hinder your goals, and compassionate actions have gotten countless people killed. But they can also serve you in ways you can't imagine as I've already told you."_

The fact that she acknowledged the weaknesses of compassion did little to mollify him. Lord Sidious continued to hiss that the weakness was his and that it needed to be purged—but sanity was not a weakness. Nor was purpose. She was right. He did owe compassion respect for those two things, and Harlene for being the provider. But he would always have the greatest contempt for its and Harlene's weaknesses. She was far too careless with compassion. She said as much during their conversation.

" _Would you obey a compassionate instinct without thought to the consequences?"_

" _I always obey my instincts. Claire always told me that you ignore them at your own peril."_

" _While that may be true, surely you would at least consider the consequences before acting."_

" _That depends if I had the time. In a lot of situations, you don't."_

" _Then what if you had no time, and by all logic and reason, the consequences for your compassion would be catastrophic?"_

" _I'd still do it."_

"… _You cannot be serious."_

" _I'm deadly serious. I don't expect you to understand yet, but in my experience when people do what they feel is right, things always turn out for the best. No matter how bleak or hopeless they seem at first."_

"…"

" _You think I'm a fool."_

"' _Fool' is an understatement."_

" _Well, you're absolutely right. I am a fool. And guess what? That's why I'm sitting here right now."_

" _Regardless of the benefits I have received from your compassion, I cannot condone such stupidity."_

" _I'm not asking you to. In fact, I would think less of you if you did."_

" _That is fortunate. Because if any of_ my _actions demanded nothing but the severest of punishment, I would expect nothing less than exactly that. If you did not, then I would only be able to respect you for your power and skill."_

" _Suit yourself."_

A growl rumbled in the back of his throat.  _'Suit yourself.'_  And that flippant, uncaring tone she had used. Did his respect really mean so little to her, or had it been mere childish provocation? Despite his rage, he desperately hoped it was the latter. His respect had to matter to her. He couldn't bear it if it was something she could easily forgot if lost.

_(Congratulations, Maul. You are living proof that it's possible to care about_ nothing.)

His hand gripped the wall opposite of him. He willed his fingers to dig into the stone like soft clay. With the aid of the Force, it cracked.

He had barely finished dressing when Harlene knocked. When he opened the door, he fought the urge to do a number of things, his fear and anger preventing him from knowing exactly what. But she saw everything.

"You're afraid."

Her voice was quiet. Maul abruptly turned away from her.

"And you're also an ass." Now her tone was reproachful. "Maul, I hate repeating myself, but thanks to you it's now a habit: there is a difference between stubbornness that can save your life and idle stupidity. You hate it when I call you a child, yet you do little to prove otherwise." Brief pause. "If your current level of stubbornness is so high that you refuse to see wisdom in words other than your own, then so be it: 'You heard my oath to you. You know you have my unbounded loyalty and implicit trust.'" He heard her turn away. "I ain't gonna go further than that. I'm just too fucking tired."

"What am I to you?"

He turned around as he asked the question and saw her freeze. Then she too turned around to face him.

"What?"

He went up to her and put his hands on her bare arms.

"What am I to you?"

Her eyes were wide and despite the red lights, he could easily imagine her paling.

Her surprise stoked his fear and anger. Such a reaction could imply a number of things, none of them positive. But he had to know. If he did, he could know the amount of value and regard she held him in. He could know if she would never leave him.

Maybe he could even know who he was as well.

"Some people live in fantasy, some people live in reality. Me, I live in irony, and all its beautiful grayness."

"What?" Maul snapped.

"It's very funny that you should ask that," she said calmly, not at all abashed at the utter nonsense that had just spouted from her mouth. "Because that's exactly what I've been working up the courage to ask you ever since you came back." She peered at him. "Can you answer?"

He opened his mouth to tell her that she was his purpose, his reason for existence…then he closed it.

Harlene smiled knowingly. "I thought so. But I think we both know the answer. It's just gonna take some time to put it in actual words. And I also think that the wait will be worth it."

In her smile, he saw the faith her words conveyed. His hand stroked her cheek.

"Come. Let us rest."

Falling asleep in her arms shielded him from nightmares, but not from actual dreams. He did dream as he slept; and it was highly unusual.

_He was small. Very small. His eyes were fixed on a much larger person standing over him. It was a woman with tannish skin. Her cranial horns swept up from her forehead and disappeared inside her black hair. Her slim but hard fingers were tracing circular patterns on top of his head. It felt very comforting. He smiled at her, but she did not smile back. Her face was sad, grim, and contained no small amount of disgust._

_He kept his eyes on the woman, but out of the corner of his vision, he saw a hard red hand lay itself on her shoulder._

" _You know what must be done," a male voice said. It was even grimmer than the woman's expression._

_She nodded, bronze eyes still locked on him._

" _Tonight," she whispered._

xXx

Harlene, too, dreamed that night.

_She was small, sitting crossed-legged on the kitchen floor. Her concentration was fixed on the picture she was coloring on a datapad. Drawing was fun when she wanted a break from reading, and anyway, it was too noisy in the kitchen to read. She could have gone to her room, but she wanted to be close to Mommy who was cleaning._

_She didn't look up when Mommy's comm rang, though it rarely did. Mommy answered it._

" _Hello?"_

" _Antonietta."_

_Mommy's terrified gasp was followed by a loud smack as her comm dropped on the floor. The child had stopped coloring. She stared at the comm, her tiny hand frozen over the pad as the scary voice continued to speak._

" _You thought you could get away with it, didn't you? You always pay for mistakes, Antonietta. Is it right beside you? Is it listening?"_

_Before the child knew it, Mommy scooped her up and ran into the next room. She slammed the door shut, breathing hard and clutching the child to her heart. But for the child, breathing was very difficult thanks to terror and confusion._

" _Mommy, what—?"_

" _Shhhh." Mommy's hold on her tightened. She was facing the door. The look on her face made the child believe she thought it would attack them. "Shhhhhh. Don't talk," she repeated in a strained whisper._

_They stayed there for a while. Finally, Mommy put her down. "Stay there," she ordered and slowly approached the door. She pressed her ear to it before opening it._

_The child did as she was told, but Mommy never came back for her. Not even when Daddy came home. Feeling alone and scared, the child went out of the room. The muffled voices at the end of the house told her Mommy and Daddy were talking in their room. And that the door was open._

"— _crazy. We were stupid and crazy. You can't deny it anymore, Franco!"_

" _Maybe, but neither of us could have predicted—"_

"— _I should have endured his touch just once, let him believe Savannah was his. Then he wouldn't—"_

"— _listen to yourself, Antonietta. You're not thinking clearly. A hundred years ago, you could have gotten away with something like that. In this day, you might have gotten away with it for a couple of years if you were lucky. And when Leone found out, what would he have done to you? What would he have done to Savannah?"_

_The child crept closer to the opened doorway. She peered inside and saw Mommy's hand was clutching her mouth. Her head was bowed._

_Daddy, his face filled with love and sadness, put his arms around her._

" _This was the only choice," he whispered. "Our only choice for some form of a free life. It's no one's fault."_

" _No, Franco, it's our fault—_ my _fault!" Mommy wrenched herself away from Daddy's arms. "Leone's father pressured him into a union, as my father pressured me. I knew he didn't care about me. Always gallivanting every night, using his money to get him whatever woman he wanted…I ended up no better, of course…"_

" _Antonietta, if you're comparing our love to the behavior of that whoremongering—"_

" _Of course not! Franco, I dreamed of you before I ever met you! I dreamed of a man loving me, valuing me as a person, not a trophy or a broodmare. The day we met, and every day afterward…I didn't know what happiness and security was until I met you. I don't ever want you to believe otherwise, but I knew of Leone's pride, I suspected his instability. And I was promised to him. His family and friends, my family and friends, they all knew. I was a fool to believe he would forget me. That he would never find out I was pregnant…" Mommy hunched over, covering her mouth again. "…he's not going to let me go, Franco."_

_Daddy embraced her again. "Listen to me, my love, you cannot take responsibility for him. You cannot blame yourself. He's obsessive and unstable."_

_Mommy sobbed. "I know it was him Savannah encountered in the woods last month. He nearly killed her. He_ will  _kill her. He'll kill us all."_

" _I won't let anything happen to you or—"_

" _Mommy?"_

_The child hadn't meant to speak, but she couldn't take it anymore. Mommy and Daddy both turned to look at her, but Mommy quickly looked away. The child heard her sob again._

_Daddy sighed, kissed Mommy's forehead and went up to the child. He picked her up and carried her into her room. The child clutched at his neck as a cold fear gripped her heart. She hadn't understood everything, but anyone could tell that they were in trouble…and that the child may be responsible._

_Daddy set her on her bed and knelt in front of her. Before he could speak, the child blurted out, "Is it my fault?"_

_Daddy blinked, clearly shocked. "What?"_

" _Mommy said the scary man's after us because I'm here." Tears burned in her throat. "Because I'm the mistake…"_

" _No," Daddy said so sharply that the child flinched. He grabbed her arms, dark eyes burning with protectiveness. "Listen to me,_ cara mia, nothing _is your fault. You are a gift that your mother and I never dreamed of having. You were what gave us the courage to escape a life that others intended to trap us in forever. You gave us the will to hope for something better, for freedom. I don't ever want to hear you blame yourself, do you understand me?"_

_The child nodded, but the fear didn't go away._

" _Are we free?" she whispered._

_Daddy bit his lip and looked down. His hold on her arms loosened._

" _Daddy, something bad's going to happen, isn't it?" When there was no answer, the child's voice cracked. "Are we going to die?"_

_He looked up sharply. The despair on his face suddenly hardened into something the child couldn't name. He embraced her, and it was fierce._

" _You are not going to die," he whispered fervently. "Do you hear me? You are not going to die, Savannah Martinelli. You will not pay for the sins of others. You will live,_ cara mia _. You will live. And you will do great things. I promise you…I promise you…"_

_The child closed her eyes as the fear melted away. She believed Daddy. Everything would be okay…everything…_

Harlene didn't gasp when she woke up. In fact, she was certain that for a moment, she was stuck in sleep paralysis. Even when it faded, she didn't move a muscle for over five minutes.

When she finally began to relax, she was relieved to see that she hadn't woken Maul. He was still sleeping soundly in her arms. With a sigh, she let her body relax completely. Her mind on the other hand, was a far different story.

Savannah Martinelli.

That was her real name.

_Savannah Martinelli._

The revelation didn't bring awe, however. In fact, she found herself rather baffled. Harlene Ballantine was about as dissimilar from Savannah Martinelli as could be. How could she have believed it was her name? Where had it come from? Or  _who_  had it come from?

That man…the one who had tried to kill her when she ran away from that bigoted Christian school. He had called her mother. Her mother had been terrified of him. Her mother had been supposed to marry him, but ran away with her father…after discovering she was pregnant with her father's child.

_Me._

That man…Leone her mother called him. He was stalking her parents. He wanted to kill them.

_And he succeeded._

A cold terror gripped Harlene. Had she witnessed it? Was that what she would see the next time she dreamed? The suppressed memory of her parents' death? The thought was so horrifying, her hand began to stroke Maul's bare back without realizing it. She had barely closed her eyes again when the Interface screamed a warning.

WHAM!

The first blow struck her hard in the chest, stunning her. On pure reflex, she was able to block the next blow, but barely. The third caught her on the side of her head. As she was reeling, she heard a snap-hiss, and then felt her forearm catch fire.

She screamed.

No more blows followed. The incessant  _hummm_  of a lightsaber became the only sound in the room. Harlene didn't cry out again, but she was gritting her teeth against the pain. Taking her hand away, she saw a long and deep burn on her forearm. It extended from the inside of her elbow to halfway to her wrist. In the red lights, the wound looked black. She focused and within seconds, the burn was healed. Panting, she looked up.

He could have been a statue. Every bit of him was frozen from the hand clutching his half-ignited saberstaff to the look on his face.

The  _horrified_  look on his face.

Harlene's shock at seeing him express such an emotion lasted for only moment.

_(You shouldn't have tried to do that.)_

She felt her lips slowly peel off her teeth. Her right hand clenched into a fist. Blue electrical currents surged down her arm.

Maul didn't flinch when he saw them. He didn't even speak. Instead, he deactivated his lightsaber and let it drop to the floor. His shoulders were hunched and his arms hung at his side; helpless, accepting.

No. Not accepting.

_Wanting._

Harlene clenched her teeth and fist to the point of pain, but it wasn't due to rage. That was long, long gone.

The electrical currents died and she lowered her arm.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Now he flinched, and his expression could not have been more stunned.

"Why?"

She turned her head away so sharply, her neck hurt. Her hand clasped over her mouth in the same desperate way her mother had in her dream.

"Harlene, I…"

_(don't cry it's not about you stand firm child)_

In a few swift movements, she crossed the distance between them and pulled him close to her.

"Don't be afraid." Even though she whispered, her voice shook. "I'm right here. I'm not going  _anywhere._  Please, please, don't be afraid."

The tightness of his hold was almost as strong as the one he used after she returned to him. After over a month of isolation.

"Harlene, I…I cannot say—"

"—you don't have to." When she felt him stiffen with incredulity, she gently pushed herself out of his hold enough so that she could cup his face in her hands. "Listen to me," she said with a good deal of sternness. "I am not condoning what you did. But I do understand why. Maul, how many times did Sidious arrange attacks on you while you were sleeping?"

He didn't answer, but the way he averted his gaze confirmed what she had known for years: being woken up by Sidious's attacks had been as routine as his meals.

"I thought so. Maul…" Her voice grew very gentle. "Have you ever felt safe at any point in your life?"

His hands tightened on her arms, eyes remaining averted. His jaw visibly trembled.

"You must go to your quarters."

"What?"

"The quarters I directed you to when…" He trailed off as if some deep, internal pain was getting the better of him. "…you must sleep there."

She couldn't believe it. Her mouth tried to say "what?" again, but her voice failed her.

Maul bared his teeth as if her silence was fanning his internal pain. His hands forcibly loosened, but he didn't release her. "Harlene, you must go."

She said nothing. The torment twisting his features told her that she couldn't imagine what it was costing him to do this. Finally, he faced her so sharply that she almost flinched.

"Go, damn you!"

His eyes were blazing with anguish. Hissing pants escaped through bared teeth.

His teeth.

Harlene found her full attention had diverted to them all on its own accord. They were very bad, which she had known even before she had known him. Despite the red lights, she could clearly see how blackened they were along the gum line and edges. She could even see a hint of yellow along the black edges as if they had been roasted over a fire.

Roasted over a fire.

Burned.

_Force lightening._

Harlene's breath froze in her lungs. She should have known. His every encounter with Sidious had probably involved a session or four with Force lightening. Bacta could heal external and internal burns, but dental damage would require more involved care. Involved care that Sidious hadn't bothered to implement, undoubtedly on purpose. Zabraks were known for their ability to withstand great physical harm. It took quite to bit to permanently scar them.

Only Maul's presence enabled her to drain most of the rage. She would call upon it at a later time.

"No."

Her voice was quiet, but final. Maul's anger was palpable along with his despair. He wasn't emotionally strong enough to do little more than yell at her to go and they both knew it.

"Harlene, I have no desire to—"

"—cause me unnecessary pain. Yes, Maul, I know," she said patiently. "But the thing is I have no desire to go sleep in another room, which brings us to an obvious stalemate."

"Harlene—"

She put a finger to his lips. "I'm not saying we're not going to do anything about this problem. We are. In fact, I believe I have a solution. Lie down, on your back."

He did so, and she fought the urge to cringe at not only how quickly he obeyed without question, but also at his lack of confusion. He was expecting anything, including pain.

Well, he was going to get the exact opposite of pain, she told herself. And the more time they spent together, the less he would expect such harshness. She covered his legs with the blanket and moved by his side. Then she began to caress his face with both hands.

He blinked. "Har—"

"Shhhhh, just relax," she whispered. "Relax. Go to sleep. Nothing's going to hurt you. Not while I live. Sleep."

He didn't close his eyes right away. Eyes that seemed to be questioning reality itself. But it wasn't long before the effects of her touch began to sink in. Black lids slid downward, and he relaxed.

Relief flooded Harlene, but she pushed it away. Getting him to relax was half the battle. Victory would come only when he fell asleep. She continued to move her hands over his face; the lean cheeks, the hairless brow, and the strong, curved jaw, all the while careful not to accidentally brush his horns. She also found herself examining his features, really examining them for the first time. She wouldn't call him handsome per se, but he was definitely striking. A quality that his fearsome tattoos only enhanced, though they all but robbed his face of the boyish youth she knew would be there otherwise.

She caressed his neck for a few moments before moving down to his chest. His face was already attractive, and his body…well, there was no question about it; he had an unrivaled physique, as perfect as any mortal could get. Her eyes lingered over his strong chest and broad shoulders as her hands felt his soft skin and the hard, lean, sculpted muscles beneath.

Harlene let out a small but deep breath as the realization that she had never touched him this way before…and never with such thoughts in her head began to sink in. She also found that merely touching him, while pleasurable, just wasn't...satisfying enough. She wanted to lean down, wanted to kiss his chest, and kiss it again, and again. Wanted to feel him shudder beneath her touch. Beneath  _her._  Yes. She didn't want to be sitting beside him anymore, she wanted to be on top of him while she touched him, while she kissed him…

A slight pressure on both her wrists jolted her back to reality. Maul was leaning halfway up, staring at her. Harlene snapped several barriers up before meeting his eyes. Before she could ask what was wrong, he sat up fully and put his hands on her arms. He didn't speak, but his eyes were burning with conflict. Hatred, anger, and several other emotions waged a bloody and ruthless battle on his features. His hands rose to the sides of her head. The pressure of his touch was firm, and she could sense a tenseness in his wrists, and if they were preparing to sharply twist themselves along with her head.

Harlene made no move to touch him. She felt utterly calm.

His lips peeled off his teeth. The pressure of his hands increased.

They loosened at the same time Darth Maul pressed his forehead to hers and breathed as one who had been deprived of oxygen for as long as he could remember. Harlene brought her arms up and held him close, smiling though he couldn't see it. But she made sure he could when he pulled away.

"Lie down," she whispered.

He did, and considerably more slowly than the last time. Her hands went to his face again, and not without reluctance. She had wanted a moment to savor the sight of his face. In less than ten minutes, his neutral expression had undergone a slight, but dramatic change. A dramatic change that she knew was now permanent. That was okay. She would see it again in the morning.

xXx

"AAAAIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Shut up!"

_SMACK!_

Cody nearly dropped his comm.

"The  _fuck…?"_

"A shameless woman shall be counted as a dog; but she that is shamefaced will fear the Lord!"

"Take it, dog! Take it, harlot! Take it as the Lord demands!"

Cody used the shouts to his advantage. He ran the rest of the way and abruptly stopped behind the large trunk of a tree. Peering around the edge, he made to raise his comm, but what he saw robbed him of the strength to stand, let alone hold anything up.

" _Are you ashamed?"_

"YES!"

The desperate, terror-stricken affirmative came from a naked girl lying flat on her back in the grass. Her pretty face was contorted in agony from the brutal force of the seventeen-year-old boy grinding his hips against her. Her name was Wendy O'Brian. She took English I with Cody. She was twelve years old.

The older teenager on top of her was fully dressed, but it could not be more obvious that he was exposed where it mattered. He continued to grind, his gritted teeth bared in a sadistic, dominating grin.

"If you're ashamed," Lawrence Brooks shouted, "Then do your duty as the Lord demands! Do it in silence and reverence as He demands! 'A silent and loving woman is a gift of the Lord: and there is nothing so much worth as a mind well instructed. A shamefaced and faithful woman is a double grace, and her continent mind cannot be valued.'"

"Yeah, I'm gonna instruct your mind, bitch," the raping teenager hissed. "I'm gonna instruct it real good. Reeeeeeeaaaaalllllll goooooooooooood…"

Wendy clenched her teeth against a scream, but a small whimper escaped her. Her already bruised face was brutally slapped.

"Still don't know your duty?" Brooks inquired quietly. He looked at the rapist. "Hold her down real tight, Jimmy."

The rapist obeyed. Brooks walked over to three young boys. None of them were older than thirteen and all of them Cody recognized.

"As God demands, the wicked gender shall know her place in the world of man," Brooks uttered. "Peters!" he barked. "What does God demand?"

A scrawny, brown-haired boy looked at the scene before him, blue eyes brimming with fascination and terror.

Brooks grabbed him by the collar. "What does your Lord and Savior demand?" He hissed.

Mouth trembling, Derek Peters recited, "'Let the women learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence. For Adam was first formed, then Eve. And Adam was not deceived, but the woman being deceived was in the transgression.'"

"Good." Brooks released him. His eyes pierced each boy. "The wicked gender shall know humility and obedience. It is our duty to teach them such. The golden age of God's chosen race comes close, and all of us must accept our duty no matter how young." He pointed at the perverted display before him. "Do your duty, Peters. In the future, you shall humble your wife. Until then, you will practice by humbling a harlot."

Derek hesitated for only a moment. He slowly approached his helpless classmate just as the rapist was moving off her. The rapist got to his feet, clapped Derek on the shoulder, and moved to stand with his comrades, arms crossed. He never stopped grinning.

Wendy remained prostrate on her back. She didn't make a sound, but her light brown eyes, bloodshot and swollen from crying, were staring unblinkingly at her classmate. With trembling hands, Derek unzipped his jeans. The beginning of a smile began to form on his lips as he mounted the ravaged girl…

Cody felt his comm vibrate in his hand. Kayla was calling him. Cody stared at his comm. He was still on his knees, but his hand was holding the device up, right in front the horror before him. The red recording light was on. Clutching his mouth to keep from vomiting, he remained rooted on the spot for five more minutes. When Brooks called for another of his classmates to 'humble the harlot,' he stumbled away. He stumbled several more times before he was finally able to stand up, let alone run.

xXx

The feelings Darth Maul experienced upon waking up in Harlene's arms were routine and direct: An immediate return to consciousness, followed a brief struggle, followed by a brief calming period, followed by a brief indulgence in peace and comfort, followed by self-hatred that fulfilled his dark needs for the rest of the day.

Not a somewhat immediate return to consciousness, followed by an odd sense of peace, followed by an even odder sense of security, followed by a so very warm weight against his side, followed by an eyeful of an impossibly beautiful face wearing a soft smile.

"Good morning."

Maul just stared dumbly. Something was different. Something was…not wrong, but the change was something he was incapable of ignoring. It was…

Harlene jerked upward and gasped, cutting into his thoughts and putting him on instant alert.

"What is it?" he demanded.

But she was not afraid or angry. She was awed.

"Maul, can't you  _feel_  it?"

He frowned, but when he touched the Force, what he felt shocked him in turn.

"I'm going to check it out right away." Harlene disentangled herself from the blanket and shape-shifted her clothes. "Hurry and get dressed. Meet me at the entrance."

She disappeared. Maul quickly hauled on his clothes, holstered his weapon, and ran to meet her. She was waiting at the end of the factory, face set in concentration, eyes closed. At his approach, she opened them and grinned.

"Come on. We'll get a better view higher up."

She took his arm. In a second, Maul found himself standing on the platform of a skyscraper. A Coruscant skyscraper. And there were more as far as the eye could see, shining underneath the brilliant golden light of a Coruscant sunrise. But buildings alone would not have merited such an intense Force reading. The air was heavy with traffic; speeders and vehicles all containing sentients going about their daily lives. Countless sentients.

"I can't sense an end," Harlene whispered. "Can you?"

He closed his eyes and focused. He reached out further and further, but there was no emptiness. Only darkness, light, and life, after life, after life. He could feel them. He could feel them all.

"It's change," Harlene said. Her hand engulfed his. "For the better."

Maul stared at her, then at the display of life before him. It was not Korriban. Light was as common here as darkness. But standing on a skyscraper, Harlene by his side, and the Force flowing so richly around him, he couldn't bring himself to care.

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

**"The scratching of the inbred rats grows louder, their pattering grows deeper, their squeaking eeks ever so viler."**

" **Yet another poetic moment. And if what you're saying is true, you'll need to keep your creativity sharp."**

" **Especially since they're not going to personally come after me."**

" **What did I say about pouting? We need them alive for now. When we don't, then satisfaction will be ours. And anyway, if they were the type of people who would want to personally come after you, your thirst for their blood would be considerable lower."**

" **Yeah. Yeah. Oh, look, your apprentice is exiting the bubble."**

" **Yes…odd. Very odd. That look on her face."**

" **Something happened between her and Maul."**

" **Yes…and I'm certain that whatever it was, it was highly positive."**

**xXx**

Kayla Harrington would never admit that she enjoyed her big sister role even under pain of death, just as her baby brother would never admit to how much he looked up to her. It was a mutual contract of silence between the two siblings that was drafted solely by thought alone and hidden away never to be looked at again. But Kayla never forgot it was there, and she knew Cody didn't either. She would give advice when he needed it, pinch his nose when he deserved it, and haul him around in her car when necessary. She loved her brother more than anything, and treasured her role in his life…but that didn't mean he sorely tested her often. Like now.

Kayla let out an exasperated sigh and dialed Cody on his comm again.

"Cody, I've been waiting here for ten fucking minutes. Make me wait another ten and I'll load that video of you singing Lady Gaga in your underwear when you were five on your YouTube channel. See how long it takes for _that_  to go viral."

Smirking, Kayla hung up. That would get him running. A minute later, she laughed when she saw her brother running toward her as if he were being chased by a stampede of angry rhinos. But her smile faded when his face came into view. He was upset. Very upset.

"Cody…?"

Several yards away from her car, he tripped and fell down. When he didn't get up, Kayla swore and yanked the car door open. She almost tripped herself in her haste to get to her brother who was lying face down on the street and shaking horribly.

"Cody! Cody!" She fell to her knees beside him, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him up. "Cody, what's wrong? Did someone hurt you? Did—?"

But he wasn't hurt, she quickly saw. He was devastated. Traumatized. When she finally coaxed him into looking at her, she barely caught a glimpse of his red, tear-streaked face before he collapsed into her arms, howling.

"Shhhhh, shhhhh, it's okay, it's okay," she babbled, terrified and confused. She glanced around and was deeply relieved to see the parking lot was all but deserted.

"It's all right," she continued, desperately trying to keep her voice calm. "It's okay."

xXx

Before perching herself on a Coruscant skyscraper, Harlene triple-checked the ends of the reality. Unnecessary, but calling Claire right after coming out of the bubble wasn't an option. She needed something useful to do first. It served as a form of therapy. Not that what she had just shared with Maul wasn't therapeutic…

Harlene clenched her fingers around her comm before dialing her mentor.

"Hello, Harlene."

She bit her lip. "That's not my name."

"…I beg your pardon?"

"I said that's not my name," she repeated a bit too loud. "Claire, my…Savannah Martinelli. My name is Savannah Martinelli."

Long pause.

"I see. How did you remember?"

"In a dream."

She told Claire the details. When she was finished, neither of them spoke for several moments.

"You can leave soon if you want. I could help you find the truth."

"Claire…" Harlene rubbed her forehead. "Please don't play dumb with me. I know you know the truth. You've known for a while."

"And what makes you say that?"

"Because you're the type of person who would find out everything you could about the one you chose to be your apprentice."

Claire sighed. "That I am. But I'm curious: if you knew that I knew, why didn't you say anything until now?"

"Because I wasn't ready to know," Harlene said. "And right now, there's a very high possibility you still know more than I do."

"If you want to know, just say the word."

Harlene bit her lip. "Tell me."

"Do you want me to come down there?"

"Yeah."

Ten minutes later, Harlene and Claire were in the same hotel room as before, sitting on the same couch. Harlene kept a few barriers in place to make certain her expression was neutral. The minor pain was worth it.

"I don't know every last detail, but I know enough." Claire said. "Your mother's name was Antonietta Marie Cordini born February 23th, 2017. She came from a wealthy family who betrothed her at an early age to Leone Colombo, a man of equal status. Neither family cared that Leone was a womanizer and a heavy drinker. He was willing to go through with it for the sake of his father and estate unification, and saw Antonietta as just a means to an end. About a year before the wedding date, Antonietta met a young man by the name of Franco Martinelli, a working class citizen of Romanian and Italian descent, and also a devout Jew. Four months after their affair started, she ran away with him. She hated her misogynistic, greedy family, but she knew she had no choice but to flee when she discovered she was pregnant, and that the baby was definitely not Leone's." Brief pause. "Are you all right, Harlene?"

"I'm fine."

"Okay. Your parents fled to Rome where they got married. They along with the priest who wed them were the only witnesses. Your mother gave birth to you and named you Savannah after her grandmother. Your mother's family disowned her as a whore and refused to mention her name again, as did Leone's family. You mother couldn't have cared less about their opinion of her, but she underestimated Leone's pride. Her pregnancy by a Jewish man and abandonment made him a laughingstock among his inner circle, something he vowed to make her pay for. Her  _and_  her new family. Your parents were just finalizing their plans to flee to America when Leone and his cronies stormed the house. They shot your father dead. Leone killed your mother personally. He…" Claire sighed. "…he stabbed her over sixty times."

Harlene looked at her hands. They had a white-knuckled death grip on her knees.

"Is he still alive?"

"No. But you may be happy to hear that his reputation only continued to descend even after he got his revenge. He drank himself to death over a period of three years."

With excruciating slowness, Harlene loosened her grip on her knees. "I guess I should be grateful. The Virus Creed and the Congress of Aryan Alliances are a threat to everything I have now. They're the ones who need my undivided attention."

"It pleases me to hear you say that," Claire said with a proud smile.

"And me?" Harlene asked after a pause. "Why didn't he kill me?"

"I can only guess, but I believe that to him you were the product of his shattered reputation. Killing you wasn't good enough for him."

"I already knew that," Harlene said. "I just wanted to hear to hear you confirm it. I've heard his voice years back in my dreams. He called me the spawn of a shitblooded bastard and a little demon. He told me he was going to send me to hell where I would rot."

"Well, you look extraordinarily good for someone who's rotting."

Harlene gave a small laugh.

"Did you get everything you needed?" Claire asked softly.

"No." Harlene shook her head. "From you, yes. I wanted…preparation. Someday, some night…I'm going to watch them die. I'm going to watch my mother and father be murdered. But at least now I won't be entirely caught off guard."

Golden eyes stared at her with the deepest tenderness. A strong protective arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"You know I'm always here for you."

Harlene leaned against her. "I know."

"Noelle, Jacob, Roan, and Dr. Lexton are here for you too. You should tell them as well."

"I will."

She took a moment to bathe in the security of her mentor's embrace before pulling away and clearing her throat. "Um…I think I'm starting to make real progress with Maul."

"Really?"

"Yeah, we've…" She ran a hand through her hair. "…I think we're starting to find some common ground as far as our beliefs goes. And we're growing…very close. Not that close, not yet, but…it's gotten to the point where even the bubble's reacting. Claire, it extended. It now covers the entirety of Coruscant and maybe even the galaxy. I couldn't sense an end at all!"

"Well, that should lay some of Dr. Anderson's fears to rest. I actually scanned it before coming here and its instability has decreased by a considerable percentage. But that's not to say it won't ever shift again. Remain on your guard, apprentice."

"Duly noted."

Claire started to leave, but then Harlene remembered something.

"Claire, do you know why I've thought my name is Harlene Ballantine all these years?"

Her mentor sighed and turned around. "I'm afraid that's as much a mystery to you as it is to me. I was very thorough in my research, and not once did I spot that name or even a name similar to it. I'm sorry."

"That's all right. Thanks anyway."

After Claire left, Harlene realized her mentor hadn't inquired just  _how_  close she and Maul were getting, something she wasn't ungrateful for. The fantasies she had while touching him the night before still brought a flush to her face along with a terrible shame. Now she understood exactly how Maul had felt when she touched his horns and why he hadn't told her to stop right away. As Nick pointed out to her the first time they slept beside one another, people weren't made from stone. She felt like an utter hypocrite.

"Is something troubling you, Harlene?"

She went still, then a small smile touched her mouth.

"Finally stopped giving me the silent treatment, huh?"

Qui-Gon took a seat beside her. His face retained a good deal of grimness. "I can't tell you how disappointed I am that you would do such a thing to any sentient."

Harlene looked at him. "Qui-Gon, I love you, and I'm honestly sorry at how callous this may sound, but I don't give a damn about your disappointment. He deserved it. That's all."

His eyes narrowed. "I won't let you do it again. I will stop you if the Force permits."

"Speaking of which, how is he?" Without waiting for a reply, she said, "Never mind. I'll see for myself."

She teleported to the realm of the Force and found Dooku sitting in his armchair in front of the fire. His eyes were closed and his features were oddly peaceful. Harlene lightened her footsteps as she approached him.

"Pleasant thoughts, Count?"

To her intense amusement, he flinched as if she had pricked him with a needle before all but jumping right out of the chair and backing away several steps. His face was nothing short of terrified.

It was too much. Harlene laughed, rich and full of mirth. Dooku's expression immediately clouded with anger.

"You're a cruel little monster, aren't you?"

Harlene's laughter escalated to the point where she had to wipe away tears.

"Oh, irony, bathe me in your glorious shower of gray," she managed to say between heaving gasps. When she straightened herself up, she saw Qui-Gon standing right beside his former Master, disapproval and disdain etched in every line of his face. Harlene ignored him and grinned at Dooku. "God, Dooku, your level of pathetic has escalated to the point where even your self-righteous hypocrisy is all but irrelevant." Her face and voice instantly hardened. "So today I'll just correct you. As God from  _Joan of Arcadia_ would say, 'A monster is a creature with no conscience. They're extremely rare but they do exist.' Sounds awfully familiar, huh? If not, then I suggest you consult a mirror."

"Enlighten me then," Dooku said coldly. "What exactly are you?"

"A sadistic, brutal, pain-nurturing half-psychopath," she stated flatly. "Fortunately, I reserve that part of me only for those who are deserving of it, which is a hell of a lot more than I can say for you."

She took a step toward him. Dooku's responding shift was subtle, possibly even reflexive, but that didn't change the fact that he had to stop himself for stepping behind his former Padawan.

Harlene giggled.

"Fuck, that's something I'm gonna treasure for years to come."

"I'm warning you, Harlene." Qui-Gon took a step toward her looking nothing short of livid. "Your cruelty is childish, pointless, and I  _will not tolerate it."_

Harlene's smile faded. Despite her previous words, Qui-Gon's overall opinion of her was not irrelevant. And he was right. Enough was enough.

For now.

"Okay, okay." She held up her hands. "I got my pound of flesh." Her gaze zeroed in on Dooku. "But I'm warning you, Count: if you  _ever_  provoke me like that again—moreover, if any of your actions directly or indirectly hurt anyone I care about, I will be fully, one-hundred percent responsible for  _my_  actions. Are we absolutely positively clear on that?"

Dooku relaxed by about a hair. "Perfectly."

"Good." She turned to Qui-Gon. "Qui-Gon I need your help."

His brow rose. "That's a very brazen thing to ask after what you have done." Without waiting for a response, he gestured to one of the chairs. "Please take a seat. You don't have to go, Master."

Dooku, who had been on the verge of leaving, turned around. "Oh, no. You two attend to whatever business you require. I shall not be a hindrance."

His voice was relatively calm, but Harlene could detect a hint of resentment and jealousy in it. For Qui-Gon's sake, she said instead of gloating, "You can stay, Dooku. In fact, you may be able to help, too."

He scowled, undoubtedly aware that last statement was only meant to test his reaction. Schooling his features, he calmly sat down beside Harlene and Dooku, crossing his legs in an elegant pose.

"What help do you require?"

Harlene focused on Qui-Gon. "You remember those lessons you gave me when I was eleven? I need those to continue."

"For what specific reason?" Qui-Gon asked.

"I've been having dreams about my past. The suppressed memories are coming back. I know my parents were murdered by a man named Leone." She took a deep breath. "And I now know Harlene Ballantine is not my real name. My name is Savannah Martinelli."

"Is that what you wish to be called now?"

"Not yet. What I do want is to witness my parents' death on my own terms. I asked my mentor for the details, and she said Leone had my father shot dead before personally butchering my mother with a knife." Her jaw clenched. "I don't want to wait for that to sneak up on me in a dream."

"Understandable," Qui-Gon said, and she noticed that his face had become noticeably softer. "Very well. I will assist you in any way that I can."

"As will I," Dooku said.

Harlene's brow shot up. "And why would you do that?"

"To repay a debt," Dooku said, simple but dark. "I will confess that there is nothing I would not do in order to avoid what you bestowed on me for the rest of my eternal existence. That being said, it taught me something of vital importance. Something that will assist me greatly in my journey of self-discovery: what it truly means to be Sith."

"Hmm. Well, I'm not surprised that particular lesson had to be forced on you. Maul on the other hand was an entirely different story." She smirked. "I told him he had to kill me to become Sith. I offered him my life in exchange for the identity. He refused it. And all on his own free will."

Dooku's face could have been carved from stone.

"Shall we start your lesson?"

Her smirk widened to a grin. "Let's do it."

xXx

It didn't take long for the adrenaline to wear off, which was probably a good thing. Trent Carlyle had only one life and he sure as hell wasn't going to waste it on some hare-brained suicidal mission. The again, he thought as he paced in the shitty hotel room he had rented, the odds of him dying a violent death on a mission like this were higher than a meth addict, hare-brained or well thought out.

With a rough sigh, he sat on the moldy bed and ran his hands through his hair. Whenever he felt frustration like this, he found it was best to go through what he did know and what he had to do.

One, that race traitor dyke Iron Hand was the one ratting them out.

Two, the only chance at salvation he and his mother had was if he did something that made him an untouchable hero to the Congress of Aryan Alliances.

Three, exposing Iron Hand or stealing the Daemon Virus were the only two things that would make him an untouchable hero to the Congress of Aryan Alliances.

Trent bowed his head and pressed his knuckles against his mouth. It would be stupid to set his sights on either one of them. The focus was Iron Hand. The rest would come later. And he knew this was strictly a solo mission. He had friends, but there was little doubt even they would claim all the credit for such a feat and leave him in the dust. It had to be him and him alone.

So. Iron Hand. How could he out her? Hacking Virus files was out of the question. There was no way he could beat the encryption on her data. Not if even the brightest CAA computer scientists failed in all of their sometimes hourly attempts. Overpowering her was laughable. With interrogation, overpowering her was an unavoidable prerequisite. That left only one option: he would have to get close to her.

The memory of those icy hands on his bare skin made him want to vomit, but that wasn't the only reason he forced his mind to go blank. He wasn't a fool, Iron Hand even less so. If he tried to get close to her with a plan already set firm in his mind, she would know. And she would kill him.

_Maybe I wouldn't need a plan anyway,_  he thought.  _Maybe I just need to be present._

Yes. His ordeal at Kemp's hands had already made him an object of scientific fascination for her. She was deeply interested in the CAA's emotional transfer experiments. She had told him herself that they had inspired her to do some experiments of her own.

She also said his resistance to the emotional transfer was far stronger than that of his peers.

Trent left the hotel room. He tossed twenty bucks on the receptionist's desk and all but ran to his car. Inside, he gripped the edges of his seat.

He would never call himself a scientist, but he knew something of how scientists thought. One thing that they all had in common was an obsession with trials. They would do the exact same experiment again and again until they themselves lost count in order to prove their theories correct. And Iron Hand had conducted only one trial with him so far.

"You want something to test, dyke?" he muttered as punched directions into the nav. "I'll give you something to test."

A wave of bravado swept through him. He held onto it tight. It lasted half the ride.

xXx

Three hours after the lesson started, Harlene opened her eyes and scowled. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing," Dooku said. "You are highly skilled with meditation, and your patience is more than adequate. But it would be foolish to expect so much so soon."

"I saw quite a bit the first time Qui-Gon taught me."

"Then perhaps your conscious mind deems you unprepared for the memories you wish to see," Qui-Gon suggested. "This is not the only lesson we will give you, Harlene. You are free to come here whenever you wish."

Dooku gave a slight nod. Harlene said her goodbyes and left before the twinge of guilt she felt could grow any bigger.

For the first day of her time off, she kept herself distracted with training, piano, singing, and reading. She made a considerable effort not to look at her bed. It was a blatant reminder of what she could see when she fell asleep tonight. Her spirits lifted a bit when Roan sent her the links to several videos by the young vlogger Cody Harrington that Noelle had told her about before. Harlene watched them all and found herself very impressed by his arguments and support. His youth and his race also gave her hope for a better future.

_Got a surprise planned for him,_  Roan said at the end of his email.  _This guy deserves something special._

That he did. Harlene made a mental note to give him a surprise as well.

Her eyes flickered to the clock. Eight-thirty. In three hours at the most, she would have to go to bed.

Harlene bit her lip. While all her friends were busy right now, she knew they would give her absolute hell if they ever found out she was refusing to seek comfort from them over an issue like this. But she had already talked about it once. The only thing that would really help was if she wasn't alone when she slept tonight.

Her gaze flickered to her bed again. The sight made her feel like a pathetic, frightened child.

_(stand firm)_

With a sigh, she made her way to the virtual room. She was let in when she informed the technicians that she just wanted to visit the bubble for a little while. She adjusted its time frame, donned the sensory suit, and jacked in.

xXx

While the Voice ensured that Maul had an endless supply of training droids and equipment, he would sever his own legs before using that as an excuse to let his mechanical skills atrophy. After planning some more lessons for Harlene, he took a butchered Rapier and Chain down to his workshop and proceeded to repair them manually. He had finished Rapier and had just started on Chain when he heard a slight movement behind him.

"Hey."

Maul blinked. Barely a day had passed since he had last seen her. Her absences always ranged from three to five days. He was shocked, but not at all displeased.

Unfortunately, she misinterpreted his silence. "Um…I can see you're working, so I'll just…"

Maul let the welder he was holding drop to the floor, crossed the distance between them, and grabbed her around the middle. "Disappear, and I will tear through the very fabric of this bubble if that is what it takes to find you," he hissed.

He was pleased when his threat prompted an alarmed expression. However, it lasted for only a moment before she smiled.

"Drama queen."

The taunt angered him, but not nearly as much as it would have before.

Before.

Before what, precisely? Before the last time they slept together? Before he had ever met her? Before both? He honestly didn't know. But something was different. Something had changed, and with her here right now, pretending it had not was not even an option.

"Maul, are you all right?"

He wanted to talk to her about it. He knew she would help him understand. But unable to put it into words at the moment, he settled for the next best thing.

"I cannot tell you how pleased I am that you are finally free of the Jedi."

Her knowing smile told him she was well aware of his half-truth, but to his relief she kept to the subject.

"Well, it wasn't all sunshine and rainbows even when I liked them," she admitted. He saw her staring at the semi-repaired Chain and let her go so she could examine the droid. "I mean, I told you my opinion of Anakin despite being my brother and all. But the times I explored the Temple on my own and met with the other Jedi…a lot of those interactions really tested my temper."

"Did they insult you?" Maul demanded sharply. "Did they attempt to harm you?"

"No to the second, yes to the first. A lot of the Masters were cold, arrogant, and aloof. But the very young Padawans were the most annoying. Several of them thought it was cute to make fun of my accent."

Maul's eyes narrowed. "What about your accent?"

She looked at him, smiling without mirth and said with flawless Coruscanti tones, "Well, I don't talk like you, do I? My voice does not possess the elegant, proper intonations of an Inner Rim citizen." Returning to her normal voice, she said very dryly, "Apparently, I have a flat, nasal, barbarous accent that makes me sound like an uneducated, Outer Rim vagrant."

She returned to examining Chain so she didn't see Maul's mouth open in outrage.

"Those miserable brats!" he spat. "Judging your intelligence on your accent. Your voice is lovely! How dare they—"

The sharp, stunned look she threw him instantly cut him off and he froze, realizing what he had just said. Lovely. He could not remember ever using such a word to describe anything. Appealing, yes. Satisfying, yes. Even beautiful was not so unusual. But… _lovely_ …

Harlene was still staring at him. Masking his discomfort, Maul straightened and said in a stiff but proper tone, "Your voice is very appealing. And it conveys your intelligence and capability. They had no right to—"

He was cut off again, but this time by giggling. And it was not slight giggling either. She had turned away from him and covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes were practically dancing with mirth.

"What is so amusing?" He shouted, humiliation coursing through him. "What is—!"

Going up to him, she put a hand on his cheek and bestowed the other with a soft, long kiss. When she pulled away, her hand lingered and she was smiling.

"Thank you."

It wasn't a patronizing gesture. The gratitude in her eyes was real. Maul felt his anger slipping away and let it. So long as she wasn't truly mocking him, he could forgive her for laughing. And since his compensation was a kiss, he found himself unable to complain.

"I have seen your anger many times," he said after a while. "I know of your vengeful nature. You will not allow them to get away with what they have done."

"You're right. I won't." Her previous gentleness froze over like a rock tree in a harsh blizzard. "I can't interfere directly. But I do have something planned. Something they'll never forget."

"Tell me," Maul whispered, feeling something that could only be described as giddiness.

"Oh, Maul, you don't want me to spoil the surprise now do you?" But she was grinning. "Remember, all good things are worth waiting for."

Maul forced down his disappointment. She was correct. He had been longing for this with a passion that rivaled his desire to destroy the Jedi Temple and slaughter its inhabitants. That was now impossible, but Harlene causing any form of pain and humiliation to the Jedi was the next best thing. And most definitely worth waiting for.

"Very well, then." He turned back to his workshop. "It will only take a short time to reorganize these tools. I will meet you back at the factory in ten minutes."

"Actually…" Her voice was somewhat hesitant. "Maul, I don't want to train right now."

He turned to her sharply. "What?"

"I didn't come here to train," she said, taking a step closer. "I want a break."

His one compensation was that this moment of idiocy did not surpass her declaration of blind obedience to her compassionate instincts. But it still angered him greatly.

"A break," he sneered. "Are you going soft, Observer? Do you want your enemies to win?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Training is vital if we're going to beat our enemies, but if we let our lives revolve around it, we'll just be turning ourselves into lifeless killing machines. We do need a break every now and then. Or at least I do. It's my time off and I wanted to spend it with you. But if I was wrong to come here just say so and I'll leave."

Maul opened his mouth, closed it, looked away, then back at her again. By the Force, he  _hated_ ambivalence.

"All right," she said. With a single nod, she turned away.

"Wait."

She turned around, brow raised. Maul took a deep breath and went up to her. "What did you have in mind?" he asked, dreading and anticipating another discussion.  _Ambivalence…_

"Nothing extravagant," she assured him. "Since the bubble has extended, I was thinking going out for dinner and then taking a quiet stroll in a park."

Maul didn't reply for a while.

"I beg your pardon?" he finally managed.

"Dinner," she said, drawing out the syllables. "You know, when you go to a restaurant and—"

"Do  _not_ condescend to me," he snarled.

"Why are you so damn surprised?"

"Being that you have refused twice now, I was under the impression that the prospect of sharing a meal with me was repellant to you."

"I was upset and didn't feel like eating, you self-absorbed drama queen!" she snapped, but then frowned. "Wait, what do you mean twice?"

He seethed. "You don't remember? On that day after I trained you?"

Her frown dissolved into understanding. "You…you wanted to…eat with me?"

Scowling, he sneered, "Why are  _you_  so damn surprised?"

"Maybe because I was so unsure of how you felt about me," she said flatly. "I couldn't tell if you wanted companionship or if it was just some possessive game for you." Her face softened. "But now I know that it wasn't. Maul," she went up to him and put her hands on his arms, "I would love to have a meal with you."

He returned her touch and nodded. "Then we should go elsewhere. Your metabolism is far different from mine. You would not be able to handle most of the foods in my possession."

"Then it's settled," she said cheerfully. "I'll go get ready. You pick the restaurant."

She disappeared. Maul stared at the spot she had been in as several shameful realizations came to mind. The few foods he could offer her would not have amounted to a satisfactory meal to begin with. And the first time he offered her food  _had_  been mostly a possessive gesture, one that would have satisfied him greatly had she accepted. Despite both of those facts, he had expressed anger toward her, anger that was completely undeserved. And he had lied to her in the worst way possible: through silence.

He began to reorganize his tools, all the while resisting the urge to throw them in every direction.

"Maul, are you all right?"

Gritting his teeth, he turned around to confess how misplaced her faith in him had been, but the words died in his mouth.

Harlene was standing there, and it was quite apparent that 'getting ready' had not just involved cleaning her hands and face. In place of a black jumpsuit and cloak, she now wore a simple but elegant gown of the darkest crimson with long off-shoulder sleeves. The hemline of the skirt softly whispered against the floor.

Her arms spread out almost helplessly. "What? We're having a break and this also marks the first time we're going out together. It's a special occasion!"

Her bright smile was like a lightsaber to the gut. He turned away, unable to bear it.

"Maul?"

When her hand touched his arm, he forced himself to face her and made his confession. She sighed when he finished.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised." She gave a slight shrug. "You want to go now?"

"Go where?"

"To dinner, of course." Harlene sighed again at his stunned expression. "Maul, after everything we've been through, especially after last night, you think I'm gonna leave over yet another tantrum and a bit of domination involving food?" She laughed and shook her head. "Come on, let's go."

Maul relied on the Force and instinct to pilot the speeder. These emotions, these reactions…they were so alien and so confusing. He glanced at Harlene several times, needing to talk to her, but unable to properly form the words. But he would soon. He had to. If she could not help him understand, he feared he would go mad.

He parked outside one of the local diners and locked the speeder. Harlene let herself out and took his hand as they walked toward the entrance. He squeezed the appendage, intensely grateful for its calming effect.

Calming. Peace. And no self-loathing to accompany it.

The waiter who seated them was a soft-bellied human with a rather sour expression, but Maul forgave him for it since he gave them a booth that was further away from the other patrons. The last thing he wanted was to be overheard.

"Wonder what's eating him," Harlene mused as the waiter walked away. "He was all smiles when I saw him through the window." She shrugged and turned back to Maul. After a moment, a soft smile touched her lips. "Your eyes have changed, you know. Your entire face has."

She didn't elaborate, but they both knew she did not have to.

"You are to blame," Maul said.

"You as much as me," she countered. "I haven't forced you to do anything. Any change that I've encouraged, you let happen. You and no one else. Hmm." She peered at him. "But this change…you have no idea how to deal with it. It makes you feel as lost as the prospect of having no purpose."

"You showed me mercy when you should have punished me for harming you." He would  _not_  let his voice tremble. "You showed me mercy so many times before. Mercy  _and_  compassion. And yet…I can no longer hate you for it."

"You did once?"

"Once," he repeated, suddenly realizing that yes, it had just been one time. "When you saved me from the Sith Hounds. I watched you lying unconscious and injured in my medical room. In that moment I wanted nothing more than to kill you."

"But what did you do instead?"

"I ordered my medical droid to treat you," he said with an impatient wave of his hand. "But that is not the point. I hated you for your compassion. For showing  _me_  compassion. Compassion is a weakness, one you possess in perilous amounts. Yet when I look at you, I cannot hate you for it. My respect for you has not changed. Mere moments ago, I discovered I cannot even hate myself anymore for accepting your compassion."

"And you want to hate yourself? You want to hate me?"

"No," he hissed. "That is the point: I should want to. But I do not."

The soft-bellied waiter came up to them. His expression was so sour it bordered on disgust.

"What do you want to drink?"

Harlene ordered tea. Maul ordered Iridonian wine. The waiter curled his lip at Maul before shooting Harlene a look of pure disgust and walking away. Harlene stared after him with a hard expression before focusing on Maul again.

"If you feel you should want to but don't, then it appears that I'm having a lot more success with your subconscious instincts instead of your stubborn, obnoxious conscious mind." He bared his teeth at her, but she was unfazed. "Let's say I did punish you for hurting me the night before. What would that have accomplished?" Brief pause. "That's not a rhetorical question."

"I deserved punishment."

"Did you hurt me because you wanted to? Because you enjoyed it?"

"No!" he snapped. "Hurting you would never bring me pleasure! I—"

"Was it your intention all along to hurt me?"

"No! It was…it was…"

"An accident," she finished. "Don't look so disgusted with yourself, Maul. It  _was_  an accident. It's a  _fact_  that it was an accident. And you can't compromise facts. You either accept them or you don't." Before he could growl, she continued. "And I am not Darth Sidious. With me it's not 'you did something wrong, therefore you will punished no questions asked.' I _will_  take other things into account. And because I did, because I was compassionate, because I got over my anger and didn't punish you, I found another solution that resulted in a quiet, peaceful night for the both of us. If I retaliated with violence and then left, that would have resulted in you feeling sick, miserable, and alone. I didn't want you to go through that, Maul. Is that so wrong? Should you want to hate me for that?"

She let him dwell on that for a while. Eventually, the waiter brought their drinks. Maul mulled over her words several times, but they only caused further confusion.

Harlene sighed. "Maul do you know the definition of compassion? I'm not talking about your opinion of it. I already know that. I'm talking about its meaning."

"It is kindness driven by personal weakness."

"Which pretty much makes all of my previous compassionate acts toward you null and void, doesn't it? Unless you really do believe I helped you because I'm weak." She saw his frustration and sighed again. "Maul, did you get that definition from Sidious? No, don't answer that. Of course you did. And I'm sure that's what he believes compassion is. But he's wrong. Compassion is seeing someone suffering, and doing what you can to relieve that suffering without expecting anything in return. Or to put it simply: kindness driven by  _selflessness,_  not weakness. Sound familiar? It should. Because you've acted that way twice now. Once when you took my pain away while I felt like I was being eaten alive from the guilt of almost letting those self-righteous motherfuckers rape your mind, and twice when you demanded that I sleep in another room because you were afraid of hurting me again. And don't give me The Death Glare of Doom," she said coldly. "I just gave you the true definition of compassion, and your actions match it perfectly. Now I ask this: has your compassion for me corrupted your hatred for the Jedi? For the Congress of Aryan Alliances?"

He felt his jaw muscles tighten in response to the hatred that surged through him at the mere mention of those two abominable organizations. The hatred that had multiplied a thousand fold when he learned of the harm they caused Harlene.

Harlene.

He cared for her. He could no longer deny it. And…and he  _had_  acted compassionately toward her. Yet she still fed his hatred. She did not weaken him. She made him strong. She had always made him strong.

Just as clarity began to form in his mind, Harlene's face came into deep focus. The beginning of a smile was forming on her lips, and he knew it was because he was starting to understand. But he did not feel strong beneath that smile, those soft dark eyes. All he felt was shame.

"Maul?"

He abruptly looked away.

"Hey." He felt her hand close around his. "Whatever you're feeling, talk to me about it. That's what I'm here for."

After a long moment, he squeezed that hand tightly.

"I hated you."

_For saving my life. For valuing me._

"I know."

"I wanted to kill you. I nearly did."

_I nearly destroyed what made me strong._

"I know."

"How can you forgive me?"

"Because I care about you."

"I do not deserve your forgiveness."

"No one deserves forgiveness, Maul. It's a gift. And true forgiveness is a gift of compassion."

He forced himself to look up. Her face was as soft and kind as ever.

"I cannot, I will not embrace compassion in its entirety," he said. "It shall be for you. Only for you."

"For now, I think I can live with that." She leaned back and smiled. "You'll see how strong it makes you, Maul, how much it can feed your hatred. Especially when someone you care about is in immediate danger."

The waiter stopped by their table again. His expression was still sour, but also calculating. "What do you want to eat?"

"I'll try the soup special with a Corellian salad on the side. No dressing please."

"Reek steak," Maul said. "Raw. Leave the blood."

The waiter jotted their orders on his pad and then walked away without another word.

"Oh, let it go, Maul," Harlene said when she saw his eyes murderously following the waiter's back. "You get rude waiters all the time when you go to restaurants. So long as he doesn't harass us or give us crappy food we shouldn't let him spoil our evening."

Maul turned back to her, but only after imagining the waiter dead on his stomach with a smoldering hole through his chest.

"I have experienced such hate before," he said, continuing their previous conversation. "When the Jedi held you captive. And so long as one member of the Congress of Aryan Alliances lives, you will always be in danger."

_"We_  will always be in danger," she corrected. "And I too knew great hatred when I learned of what the Jedi were going to do to you." She snorted. "Well, not right away." She took a gulp of tea and grimaced as if it were acid.

Maul's eyes narrowed. "Harlene, you will cease wallowing in this pointless guilt."

She blinked, startled. "What?"

"You did not fail. You hesitated, but you did not fail. There is no reason for you to feel guilt."

Her mouth fell open. "Are you serious? After what I—"

"What  _they,"_  he hissed.  _"They_  attempted to alter my memories and because of you they did not succeed. No matter your hesitation, you did not fail. I am still who I am due to your intervention, and I cannot express my gratitude for it. Cease this pointless guilt.  _You did not fail."_

She stared at him, incredulous. Then she laughed and shook her head.

"God, you never cease to amaze me. Guess that'll teach me to always keep my guard up around you. If I don't, you'll become a man without me even realizing it."

"I  _am_  a man." He leaned forward boring his gaze like a drill into hers. "And you will realize that soon enough."

She froze, and he unabashedly let his eyes roam over her exposed neck, collarbones, and shoulders.

"You like this dress?" Her voice was low, but she was visibly flushed.

The corners of his lips curled ever so slightly.

"Whatever gave you such an idea?"

Her flush deepened. "I'm not teasing you, am I? That wasn't my intention."

He leaned forward even further. "Rest assured, Harlene, I find your usual attire far more provocative than your current one."

By the Force, she was magnificent. He savored every reaction like the finest wine from her slightly parted lips, to her elevated breathing. Most of all, he savored the fact that he was the one to break the silence.

"Harlene Ballantine at a loss for words," he mused and smiled. "You were  _deeply_  wrong to underestimate me."

The silence continued. Reveling in his power over her, Maul reached under the table to take her hand—

"You have a lovely smile."

—and let it drop as his mouth gaped open in wordless fury.

Harlene covered her mouth and giggled so hard, tears welled up in her eyes.

"Stop.  _Laughing,"_  he snarled, but her laughter only increased along with his embarrassment.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, wiping her eyes. She grinned at him. "Looks like I'm still the master of the spoken word."

Maul scowled. Harlene looked as if she was on the verge of more giggling, but composed herself and straightened up. She frowned a bit as she glanced passed him.

"No sign of Mr. Sunshine." Her frown deepened. "Jeez, it's been almost half an hour since we ordered. How long does it take to prepare soup that's already made and raw meat? I'm hungry."

Maul looked behind him. That waiter had already tested his patience more than once already, but Harlene publicly announcing her hunger automatically meant a painful death sentence for him.

"Maul, calm down," Harlene sighed. "Please? There are big problems in this galaxy and us not getting our food the exact time we want it isn't one of them."

"That is beside the point," Maul said sharply. "He despised us the moment he laid eyes on us. He is deliberately making us wait."

"We'll wait five more minutes, then," Harlene said reasonably. "If he doesn't come by, I'll find him and talk to him."

"I would be better suited for that."

"If by talk you mean decapitate first ask questions later, then yes, you would be," Harlene said dryly. "Maul, let's face it: I'm the diplomatic one here. One thing that I really, really hope to impress upon you in the near future is the power of words, but until then leave negotiations to me, all right?" She looked past him and smirked. "Oh, look, we didn't have to wait five minutes after all."

Bearing two trays, the soft-bellied human approached their table. He set them down, smiling a highly unpleasant smile.

"Enjoy."

"Fuck you, too," Harlene muttered as he walked away. Her nose wrinkled. "God, what's that  _smell?"_

Maul glared at her furiously. "It is my steak," he hissed. "I told you he despised us."

Harlene looked at Maul, then at the reek steak on his plate. She pushed the plate closer to her and smelled the meat. She immediately reeled back in disgust.

"Shall you go and pursue your diplomatic solution now?" Maul said savagely.

But Harlene wasn't paying attention to him. She was looking past him. Maul followed her line of vision and saw the waiter in the distance talking to another waiter. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but whatever their subject of conversation was it pleased the soft-bellied waiter to the point of laughter. Maul turned back to Harlene to make yet another snide comment about diplomacy, but stopped cold.

She was still staring at the two waiters, and her mouth and eyes were growing wider and wider. Apparently she was able to hear exactly what they were saying. She looked at Maul, then at the rotten steak, then back at the waiters again. Maul saw comprehension dawn on her face before it contorted into a mask of feral loathing.

"Har—"

With an ear-splitting shriek, Harlene shot toward the soft-bellied waiter with the speed and single-minded intent of an assassin's bullet. Maul jumped up, igniting his lightsaber, but it quickly became apparent that there were no other present threats. Harlene seized the soft-bellied waiter around the middle, and, ignoring the outraged protests of his fellow employee, began to bodily haul him toward their booth.

Yelling in terror and anger, the soft-bellied waiter attempted to fight her off, but his efforts were futile. She slammed him against the table's edge, pinning him by the throat.

"The horn-headed murglaks always like their carrion extra bloody do they?"

Grabbing the rotten steak in her free hand, she raised it over her head like a battle ax and brutally shoved the end of the meat into the waiter's mouth.

"HOW DO YOU LIKE YOUR CARRION,  _RACIST!"_

BAM!

_"BIGOT!"_

BAM!

_"MOTHERFUCKING SUPREMICIST!"_

BAM!

"EAT IT! EAT IT! EAT IT!  _EAT IT!"_

By the time she got to the tenth "EAT IT!" the steak was already two thirds down the soft-bellied waiter's throat. His eyes were bulging grotesquely and his bloated face was now a deep shade of blue. Only when a small bit of the meat was protruding from his lips did she stop. Panting, almost snarling, her eyes drank in the sight of her victim's face before she yanked the meat out of his throat and hurled him away from her. She watched his prostrate form shudder violently for a moment before meeting Maul's eyes. Her own broiling with mad hate and flecks of blood splattered all over her face, she looked positively rabid.

Maul said nothing. He didn't even move. The only sounds in the diner were the loud but pitiful coughs and retches of the soft-bellied waiter and the hum of Maul's still-ignited blade hanging limply in his hand. The patrons and employees had long since fled in terror.

Still panting, a flicker of reason seemed to pierce through Harlene's fury. She looked at her crimson streaked hands then back at Maul. Her eyes were filled with tears. She clenched her fists and fled out the front door. As she passed, Maul caught that terrible rotting smell. It lingered in his nose even after she was gone.

xXx

Trent parked his car and stared at the immense building that so easily passed for the big shot headquarters of a soulless corporation. Like so many emotions, fear followed its own logic so it took him several minutes to drill into his head for the thousandth time that he and his mother both had nothing to lose, not with his disgraceful status. Taking a deep breath and desperately trying to keep his mind off that horrible, horrible embarrassment, he climbed out of his car. As he got closer, every fatal scenario, each one more devastating than the last beat at his brain until he wanted to rip his head open with his bare hands.

_Nothing to lose. Nothing to lose. Nothing to lose._

After going through the entrance procedure and entering CAA headquarters, he soon discovered maybe Jesus didn't entirely hate him after all. Randall Smith's failure and his "mysterious disappearance" seemed to have gained quite a bit of momentum in a short amount of time. Not that Trent was surprised. He met no one's eyes as he walked and forced himself to block out everything but the plan. It was far from a perfect plan. It fact, about ninety percent of it was contingent upon chance. Pathetic maybe, but it was the only way Iron Hand wouldn't be able to sense that he was up to something.

He made his way to the virtual training rooms and jacked in. For the next three hours, he pushed his somewhat atrophied body through several weapons drills and hand-to-hand combat scenarios. He even sparred for a bit with a couple of his fellow soldiers. Mission aside, Kemp's punishment ensured that he would really need to catch up on his training so it was convenient. But he still made sure that when he was done his mind was still firmly focused on "mission" and not "water," "food," or "bed."

After showering, he got dressed and took the long way to his bunk. He made sure to rub his temples every other minute and take deep breaths in plain view. Past Laboratory A11, past meeting rooms and other rooms whose insides Trent would never be privy to. The elevator that would take him to his bunk was a hundred feet away. Fifty feet. Twenty-five feet. Iron Hand's lab was directly to his right, but the last thing he could do was look at it. Fifteen feet. He shouldn't have expected anything today. Ten feet. This was his first time back since the incidence. Five feet. He would have to wait some other—

"Well, look who's come home."

Trent flinched. His feet were momentarily rooted to the floor, but that didn't stop the shaking. He slowly turned around, heart pounding. There stood Iron Hand, dressed in a lab coat and smiling a smile that gave her eyes as much humanity and compassion as the headlights of a car about to smash into a deer.

Well. At least any lingering doubts of having to fake any fear were finally laid to rest.

xXx

Blind rage and automatic pilot did not a good combination make. Harlene's legs collided with the front of Maul's speeder in her rush to get as far away from the restaurant as she could. Her body hunched over, and her hands splayed on the hood. The blood on them was now dry and looked black. She curled her fingers and squeezed her eyes shut. Tears slipped past her lids and the silent parking lot enabled her to hear them impact against the hood.

Rapid footsteps behind her. She steeled herself and straightened up, but didn't turn around.

"Did you kill him?"

Brief pause. "I wished to ensure your wellbeing first—"

"Good." She rounded around the speeder and yanked the door open. "I took out that steak for a reason. A good portion of it was down his throat for enough time. Let him suffer with salmonella for the next few months."

She sat down and slammed the door shut. After a moment, she heard Maul enter on the other side. She didn't look at him or speak. Her gaze was locked onto her bloodstained hands.

"What is it you wish to do now?"

Now she looked at him and none too incredulously. His expression was as ruthless as she felt, but she could tell he would say or do whatever she wanted be it take her to another restaurant or join her on a killing spree.

Grounding her teeth, she looked away.

"Let's just go home."

"…home?"

"The Works, the factory, where we eat, sleep, and train, whatever the fuck you want to call it, let's just go back there right now!"

His didn't so much as blink at her outburst. Without a word, he started up the speeder.

Neither of them spoke during the ride. Harlene never took her eyes off her hands. They (along with her face) felt stiff from the dried blood and the smell got more repugnant by the second. Despite that, she found herself unable to summon the will or the power to make the blood disappear.

_Seen my fair share of human whores who like alien jiffy. Well, the horn-headed murglaks like their carrion extra bloody. Sick tastes complement each other so well, don't you think? Ha, ha, ha._

Her hands curled into fists, nails digging into her palms. Fresh tears burned behind her eyes. She forced them to stay there.

When they arrived at the Works, she didn't get out right away. Maul opened the door for her, and she allowed him to guide her up to their quarters. Once they stepped through the doorway, she brushed passed him and into the refresher. Turning on the faucet, she scrubbed her hands clean and splashed her face. The soap took care of the smell, but it seemed to have permanently settled inside her airway. She dried her hands and stepped outside.

Maul was standing beside the bed. His posture was alert and attentive, but she could detect a nervousness about him. Not of what she had just shown herself to be capable of, she knew. He was nervous because a part of him believed she held him accountable for what had just transpired.

Harlene collapsed onto the bed, rubbing her face with her hands. She could sense Maul watching her, feel his nervousness increase as he debated what to do.

"I'm sorry."

Her head was still bowed, but she didn't have to see his shock. It hit her like a brick.

"You are—what are you talking about?"

His tone said she  _better_  have a damn good explanation, but she just sighed. God, she felt so weary.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, still rubbing her temples. "We can't…" she swallowed and tried again, "We can't…give these people power over our lives. They would take that over seeing us dead any day."

"You did not give him power over you," Maul hissed. "How can you believe otherwise?"

"I wanted to have nice evening with you, and…" She pressed her lips together and shook her head.

Maul grabbed her arms and yanked her to her feet.

"What you did," he growled, his golden eyes burning, "was show a worthless creature  _exactly_  what he was dealing with. You showed him your hatred, you let him feel your wrath, and he shall never forget it throughout the rest of his miserable existence."

"But…" She looked away."…I've never felt these particular effects of hatred. Before it was always so righteous, so good. Now I just feel so helpless and cowardly—"

She gave a small cry when the force of his hands became bruising.

"You," he snarled, "are  _no. Coward!"_

He looked like he wanted to kill her. The lights along with his fury had darkened his eyes to a deep scarlet. They burned through her skin, her heart.

Maybe she  _had_  been deeply wrong to underestimate him. Granted, she had to break everything down and repeat it constantly for him to finally get it…but he had done the same for her and more than once. She would never deny the dysfunctional qualities of their relationship, yet it was far from unhealthy. They had helped each other so much. He was a better person because of her and vice versa. Nothing had ever kept them apart.

And nothing ever would. Not the Virus Creed, not the Alliance, and certainly not the average Job racist bastard they encountered. They would be together forever. Nothing would keep them apart. Nothing.

She realized she had touched his face only when his grip on her arms loosened. The rage in his eyes lingered, but they were now dark with an intensity she recognized. An intensity she herself felt… _had_ been feeling for what seemed like forever. Her other hand crept up to rest on his chest. Beneath the material of his tunic she felt his hearts pounding so hard it made her bones vibrate. Her own single heart seemed in imminent danger of bursting from her chest. After a long, drawn-out silence in which the only sounds were their low breathing, they closed the distance between them at the same time.

Nick's kiss had been tenderness and care. Aurra lust and fire. Maul…Maul seemed to take her out of reality itself.

She grabbed the back of his neck for support at the same time he grabbed her waist. She could feel his clumsiness and inexperience as the kiss grew harder, but he was the antithesis of insecurity.

They broke apart, barely having time to gasp when Harlene brought him against her hard. He was utterly complaint and barely a minute passed before his previous clumsiness was but a memory. His lips moved almost viciously over hers, but he wasn't hurting her at all. In fact, he was hard pressed to keep up with her. She could feel him releasing his long pent-up desire and great as it was, it was in heavy competition with hers.

He pulled back. Harlene almost growled and made to grab him again, but he held her away.

"Be certain," he rasped. "There is no turning back—"

"Maul."  _Now_  she growled. "For the love of God—shut  _up."_

She yanked him flush against her and crushed their mouths together. Maul immersed both of his hands into her hair as their war of passion continued. When Harlene ran her palm over one of his horns, he made a rumbling sound in the back of his throat and lifted her off the floor. In a single movement, he crossed the distance between them and the bed and collapsed them both on it. She heard him kick his boots off before he sat up on top of her and stripped off his tunic. He then lifted the skirt of her dress up and grasped her bare thigh. Harlene snaked her right hand around his neck and kissed him while the left tore off her boots. Before she could pull him closer, she felt him desperately groping behind her back for the dress's clasp. She grinned at his efforts. He was not amused in the slightest.

"I suggest you assist me in removing this offensive material from your body if you do not wish it to be destroyed."

"I thought you liked it," she said dryly.

His response was an almost animal-like growl. Harlene laughed lightly before undoing the clasp herself. Maul yanked the zipper down and pulled the dress off her. In seconds his trousers were gone as were her panties and bra.

Harlene thought he would go for it right then. But instead of grabbing her legs or hips, he grabbed her around the middle, and pressed himself against her. She groaned at the exact same time he did. Flesh to flesh. Not a single barrier in place. Harlene wrapped her arms around him, burying her face against his neck. She could feel him shuddering beneath her and knew he wouldn't be able to stay in that position for long. But she would be damned if she didn't savor every last millisecond of it.

Without warning, he kissed her and this time it was quite rough. Harlene made a small sound of protest and he jerked back as if her lips had burned him. He was panting, almost gasping. Harlene thought she saw fear in his eyes before he pulled her into another kiss. It was less rough, but his hands were gripping her arms; a touch that was growing more painful by the second.

"Maul—!"

He pulled…no he tore himself away from her, gasping like a drowning man. His entire body was heaving with some sort of terrible effort.

"Maul, what is it!" Harlene demanded.

He looked at her sharply, face awash with torment, terror, and confusion.

"I—I don't…"

His speech dissolved into an agonized groan. Harlene grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her.

"Maul, what's wrong!"

She realized that was a futile question even as she spoke it, and not because he looked incapable of human reason at the moment. The expression of raw animal lust before her was disturbingly familiar. He had been incapable of hiding it after she touched his horns for the first time, and this one was ten times worse than the last.

Maul grabbed her and shoved her hard onto her back, pinning her arms to the bed. Momentarily paralyzed with terror of this insane demon, she just stared at him with wide eyes. He growled, but at the same time, his features twisted to reveal a desperate spark.

"Kill me," he croaked.

Harlene's panic and anger urged her to do just that. Her trust had been ill-placed. Dooku was right all along. He was a pervert. He was a rapist. He deserved punishment. He deserved to die.

Wait.

Dooku.

What had he told her about Zabraks years before?

_Their procreative urges tend to be so unstable that they would suffer madness if they could not control them on a conscious level._

_(_ _If you deny an intrinsic part of yourself, if you bury it instead of coexisting with it, then it starves. It starves in the deepest parts of your soul and slowly changes from something natural into something mean, ugly, and very twisted. Enough so that it can make someone do things they wouldn't normally do—or want things they wouldn't normally want.)_

Harlene's eyes narrowed. She grabbed his shoulders and flipped them both over, pinning his legs with one of hers and holding his upper body above the bed.

"Focus on me."

He snarled and struggled like a starved lion desperate to free itself from its chains, but she could sense an underlying terror and confusion that was purely human. Harlene grabbed his face, boring her eyes into his.

_Maul, listen to me. This is natural for your species. You just need to learn to control it and you can._

He snarled again and grabbed her back, digging his fingers harshly into her flesh.

_Maul, you're hurting me._

The pain of his grip further urged a violent and even fatal retaliation, but she blocked it out. This boy did not need punishment. He needed help.

_Maul, do you want to cause me pain?_

The third time she calmly repeated the question, his grip loosened slightly and a flicker of reason began to enter those savage eyes.

_This is a part of you, Maul. You can control it. I know you can. I believe in you._

She continued whispering telepathic encouragement and comfort to him. His struggles lessened and his grip on her was no longer painful.

_Good. That's it. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe out._

She pressed her forehead to his all the while mouthing the words her mind was sending to him.

"Har—Harlene?"

Her name came out a harsh croak. He was looking up at her, panting, lost, and disoriented. Harlene smiled.

"Welcome back," she whispered. "I knew you could do it. Shhh, it's okay." She put her fingers to his lips. "It's all right. I know. I understand. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

She cradled him against her, feeling his harsh breath on her naked breast and the desperation of his embrace. She shifted closer and a light gasp escaped her lips when she felt something hard and hot against her thigh. Her own desire resurfaced and she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"Do you want me?"

He pulled away. Trembling hands gripped the sides of her head. His teeth were bared and his eyes were fiery, but not with rage.

"I want…nothing…else."

She gave a single nod and shifted on top of him. He sat up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and gripped the back of his shoulders. He gripped her arms. Taking a deep breath, keeping their gazes locked together, Harlene lowered herself onto him.

The first thrust was discomfort. The second was pure pain as her barrier shattered, but she refused to let it show knowing Maul might completely snap. During the several minutes she took to adjust, Harlene vowed eternal hatred for those romance authors who  _always_  portrayed first time sex as wonderful and mind-blowing. Ninety-nine times out of one-hundred it was anything but. Yet at the same time, she wanted this. Needed this. When the pain faded, she increased her grip on Maul's shoulders and let her hips thrust down again, keeping a careful steady rhythm.

The discomfort never completely vanished, and the physical pleasure was quite minimal. But…she felt him. Completely. Utterly. And she would never deny the emotional satisfaction of seeing those golden eyes blaze with overwhelming desire and need, or hearing muffled moans escape through clenched teeth. When he came inside her, he threw his head back and made a sound between a groan and a scream.

Harlene smiled. She continued to smile when he bowed his head forward, breaths low and heavy, and was still smiling when he looked up. His eyes smoldered as they took in every inch, every last detail of her face. They couldn't get more physically intimate than this, but she still found herself blushing.

Darth Maul wrapped her arms around her and pulled her flush against him. The heat of his gaze deepened her blush.

"You are mine now, Harlene."

The spell broke and she scowled.

"Leave it you to ruin the mood with chauvinistic bullshit."

"You  _are_  mine," he hissed. "As I am yours. This," he increased his grip, "this belongs to us and only us. As the Force as my witness, I swear that I shall desire no other female. Will you swear by your God that you shall desire no other male?"

"No."

Her voice grew even flatter when he growled in indignation. "Maul, you may as well be asking me to marry you (irony bathe me in your glorious shower of gray), and marriage is something that us two idiot still-virginal kids are most definitely not ready for. If you want faithfulness, then you'll get it. You deserve it. But a lifelong commitment is an entirely different story."

"You will give no commitment then?" His voice was filled with anger and jealousy. "Even as you feel my touch, you will be searching for others to be your mate?"

"Maul, that's the equivalent of calling me a whore, but I'll forgive you because I know that wasn't your intention. This," she kissed him hard and long,  _"this_  means more to me than I can say. I have absolutely no intention of finding someone else. Right now, there _is_  no one else in my mind or my heart, and I want it to stay that way. I want this to last forever."

"Then why—?"

"—because it's not enough that we like each other, respect each other, or even desire each other. There are still plenty of things we need to find common ground on, plenty of issues we need to work out. Moreover, to make a lifelong commitment…it needs to feel right for me. I need to feel in my soul that this is something that will last forever. Wanting it to last forever is far from enough."

She was relieved to see that he seemed to understand. Somewhat. But he still looked very jealous and even more determined.

"Then you shall feel it. Make no mistake, Harlene. I intend to know every inch of your mind and soul. If it takes an eternity or more, I will know the cause of such a feeling. And when I do, you  _will_  be mine."

Harlene just stared at him, waiting for 'drama queen' to move to the tip of her tongue.

It never did.


	19. Chapter 19

 

**"Elevated heart rate, deep endorphin rush…either your apprentice has become an exercise addict or she just got laid."**

**"I figured she would go to him. She put on a brave face, but I know her too well. She was dreading what her nightmares would show her next, but was afraid of burdening her friends."**

**"Her adrenaline and cortisol levels are normal. I'd guess she's sleeping quite peacefully right now."**

**"She can have all the peace she wants. For now."**

**"I know you're not just referring to her inevitable future."**

**"There's a vast difference between knowing and experiencing. And she needs to broaden her relationship experiences. Maul is the perfect guinea pig."**

**"That he is. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to attend to a guinea pig of my own."**

**"Are you wearing a shit-eating grin right now?"**

**"Yep."**

**"Then I take it you're not too disappointed that they haven't launched a personal attack against you?"**

**"No. I have the guinea pig to thank for that."**

**xXx**

Finding the last lead on laborious bounties that took days, sometimes weeks of searching, interrogating, and slaughtering was like a shot of glitterstim to hunters, sans the hallucinatory aftereffects. But the feeling of glitterstim was not in Aurra Sing's veins as she glared daggers at the dustball hovering beyond her cockpit window. For this particular feeling, the only description that could come close to doing it justice was that of a large syringe of Hutt bile being plunged into her bloodstream.

Ryloth.

Captain Orn, secretly and infamously reputed sadist of the most resilient races of the galaxy, was going to Ryloth. Weeks of tracking hadn't led her to storm a heavily guarded Iridonian Mid Rim colony, but to the bone-dry world of the wormheads so Captain Orn could transport himself a few shuttas. Of course, the knowledge that a few shuttas would get what was coming to them wasn't unsatisfying, granted—

_"One Twi'lek sold you out, Aurra._ One. _Why exactly do they all deserve your hatred?"_

_"Guess I'm the only one who doesn't find your naiveté cute, Harlene. But I'll use small words since they seem to be the only ones you can understand: you see one, you see them all."_

_"Really?"_

_"Really."_

_"Okay. Well, it's been fun, Aurra, have no doubt of that. I hope you have a nice life."_

_"Where do you think you're going!?"_

_"Away. Forever."_

_"…you_ ever _play with me like that again—"_

_"I'm not playing. Goodbye, Aurra."_

_"NO!"_

_"…forgive me…but I'm so confused. I thought if you see one, you see them all. If that's what you really believe then my very presence in your life is the ultimate hypocrisy. After all, the Dark Woman is a purebred human. Right?"_

Ship bulkheads were hardly satisfying targets, and shooting them wasn't exactly beneficial for the ship's owner. Aurra repeated that over and over again in her head a good one-hundred times before her breathing became somewhat normal. Disappointing last lead or shot-of-glitterstim last lead, her hunter instincts would settle for nothing less than single-minded focus while she retrieved her prey.

As she packed up, she tried to distract herself by looking on the bright side. Captain Orn and his crew were rumored to be excellent hand-to-hand fighters.

_(Harlene wanted so much to take down real scum right by my side me so proud so wanted)_

The Iridonians would pay her a Hutt's ransom for Orn dead or alive.

_(money so unfulfilling just a means to an end don't need a single credit)_

The galaxy would be forever cleansed of a filthy, murglak slaver.

_(Harlene won't smile won't be there gone forever alone alone alone)_

Aurra cocked her blaster and aimed it at the bulkhead in front of her. The wall. The wall that needed to stay up and strong or she would be doomed forever.

Five minutes later, Aurra let out a breath, smiled, and calmly headed back to the pilot's seat.

xXx

Cody wanted desperately to block the sounds that his locked bathroom door couldn't shield him from. He stared at his comm, dropped haphazardly on the floor, but couldn't find the strength to retrieve it. His iJacks were on his night table mere inches away. He couldn't find the strength to pick those up either.

The sound of his toilet flushing preceded the sound of the faucet being turned on full force. Cody heard three raspy gargles, each one followed by spitting and coughing. Finally silence.

The door burst open and Kayla staggered out. She was pasty-faced and red-eyed. After coming to an abrupt stop by Cody's bed, she clutched her forehead with the air of a woman suffering a terrible migraine. Concern for his sister instantly overriding his paralysis, Cody quickly got up from the bed and tentatively put a hand on her arm.

"Kayla…?"

For over a minute it was as if he had touched a piece of furniture. When she lowered her hand, she still didn't speak. But thanks to the devastated rage on her face, the words grating in her mind

_(I almost went out with him.)_

did not need to be spoken.

"What do we do?" Cody whispered.

Relieved as he was that his question seemed to provide Kayla with some focus, he was more than a little unnerved at the dark fire blazing in her eyes.

"Should I pretend that you just opened your mouth and all that escaped was a meaningless gurgle?"

"I know what we have to do!" he snapped, suddenly angry. "But how do we do it? Should we give it to the cops or—"

"Don't be stupid," Kayla said harshly. She snatched up Cody's comm and clutched it in her hand as if it were the Great Hope diamond. "They're everywhere and everyone, including the police. What we need to do is distribute it on the Internet somehow."

Cody nodded. Even if they could make sure it got into the right hands, both the cops and the media would give the populace a censored version. Sick as he felt at the prospect of showing the entire world what Wendy O'Brien had to endure, everyone needed to know just how depraved the CAA was. Madge Oberholtzer hadn't censored her ordeal, and that had been the spark that started the fire of the Ku Klux Klan's destruction.

"I have contacts," Kayla continued. She was pacing, eyes locked on the comm. "Skilled hackers. They can distribute it while covering any tracks that would lead back to them or us."

Cody frowned when she turned on his comm and brought it to eye level.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending the video to me. If worse comes to worse, they'll think I was the one who took it."

"NO!"

Cody lunged, making a grab for the comm. Kayla jumped back and made to raise it over her head, but while Cody was short he was also very fast. They wrestled for a few moments and only Cody's terror for his sister enabled him to win in the end. He yanked the comm from her hand and backed away several steps.

"I know hackers, too," he said loudly. He held up his free hand in a placating gesture as Kayla looked more than ready to continue their brawl. "They're good ones. Very good. They can cover their tracks and ours!"

"I know good hackers too, hackers that hate the CAA!" Kayla shouted. "Cody, just give it to me!"

"My hackers are better than yours!" Cody danced out of her reach. "C'mon, Kayla, I'm way more popular than you now. I know more hackers. I know better ones." He stopped and gave her his most pleading look. "Please, just let me give it to them. You know what those bastards'll do to you if they find out. That Lawrence motherfucker already knows you. Please."

Kayla stopped too. Breathing hard, she stared into her brother's eyes. Then she lowered her outstretched hand.

"Okay."

xXx

_Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

The first line of the Sith Code. And the most important. For how could one break their own chains through the power of passion if they clung to the lie that was peace?

But Darth Maul's chains were far more complex than that of limited power. More importantly, he was no Sith.

And peace was not a lie.

It was soft breathing against his neck. It was warm, naked flesh pressed against his front. It was strong arms wrapped around his torso. Peace was here. It

_(she)_

wasn't speaking, but its

_(her)_

presence seemed to whisper words that wrapped him in a cocoon of comfort and security.

_(Stay here. Stay here forever. This is home.)_

He trusted those words. Moreover, he trusted peace. He could surrender to this soothing, gradual return to consciousness because peace was with him. With peace he would always be safe, strong.

_Wanted._

Opening his eyes, he saw peace staring right back at him. Smiling.

"Good morning."

His thumb started to feather over her shoulder blade. "You always awaken before me."

"You're right. I do. But don't worry, you look the exact opposite of sweet and innocent when you sleep."

Unlike her. But that kind of dominance no longer caused him satisfaction.

Dominance.

_Maul, you're hurting me._

Icy talons sank into his hearts. He ignored Harlene's gasp of surprise when he abruptly pulled himself out of her embrace and forced her on her stomach. His hand swept her hair aside, exposing her back.

"Can you dispel the red lights?" he demanded.

"Yes, but—"

"Do it!"

She obeyed. The lights in the room were now a soft white. He could now see her skin without any interference. It was pale, flawless, unmarred. Hope rushed through him, but it disappeared as cruelly and painfully as a water mirage in the desert.

"I'm fine, Maul." When he didn't respond, she quickly twisted onto her back. "We are  _not_  going through the horn incident again!"

"This is nothing like the horn incident!" he hissed, grabbing her shoulders. "Do you have any idea what could have happened had the bubble taken your powers!?"

He half-expected the Voice to chime in and claim it would never do such a thing, but he wasn't at all disappointed when it didn't. Maul didn't trust the Voice as far as he could throw it.

"You're right," Harlene said quietly. "I know very well what could have happened if not for my powers. But if you're trying to make me forget that you beat it, you're going to be sorely disappointed."

It. He beat _it._  Though he was not completely ignorant of his species' passionate mating drives, he could not pretend that was not an inappropriate title.

"Maul? Talk to me."

He stared into her eyes, utterly devoid of condemnation, and settled himself beside her.

"I recall what you said the night before. You were, are, aware of the strength of Iridonian sexuality."

"Yes."

"I believed I did too, but I never thought that…"

The knowledge of what could have happened had her strength not forced him down viciously clawed his hearts once again. Harlene frowned.

"Maul, did you know that sexual control is the reason your species has that extraordinary will power?"

His gaze snapped up at her. "What?"

Her eyes widened. "You didn't know." Her breathless whisper suddenly became angry and hard. "Of course you didn't know."

"What do you speak of?"

"Who," she corrected. "I'm speaking of Sidious."

Ah. "My former master did inform me of my species' passion, but he also emphasized the vitality of channeling such passions into the dark side and the dark side alone."

"What about sex?"

"He never outright forbade me, but I was always under the impression that giving into bodily urges was weakness. A waste of passion." He threaded his fingers through her hair. "However, that was years before my desire for you."

Though he was well aware Harlene strongly disapproved of his former master's teaching methods, he wondered at the deep anger in her eyes. Lord Sidious would want him to discover the strength of his passion on his own, but he also would have rectified Maul's ignorance had Harlene been older in his previous life and their desire for one another mutual. The Sith may stop at nothing to obtain their goals, but Maul's belief in their honor had not abated. Lord Sidious would never have allowed him to mate if even the possibility that he would commit such a despicable act existed. Unfortunately, Harlene had not been older. He had been left to discover his ignorance in the most horrible of ways.

"What's wrong?"

Maul shifted away from her so their bodies were no longer touching. "You are my mate, Harlene. I will desire no other female be it in this life or the next. However, the possibility remains that the bubble may take your powers, leaving you defenseless. I will do everything in my power to control this newfound passion, but until I can certain…precautions must be taken whenever we have intercourse." He paused then said, "However, if you wish to wait until I can control myself, I will more than understand."

"What precautions do you have in mind?"

"I have powerful sedatives on my ship. Even one drop would be enough to severely weaken me. I will prepare several hypodermic needles and put them within your reach when we have intercourse. If you so much as suspect that I am…losing control, you must swear to me that you will use them. I will also procure manacles for you to hold me down with after you administer the antidote. Swear it, Harlene."

She bit her lip and looked away. "In the case of an emergency, sure. But that's not solving the problem, Maul. Hell, that's not even putting a band aid on it."

"I know. But this is how it must be should you desire to have intercourse before I gain control."

"And how exactly do you plan on gaining control, Maul?"

The question caused him to freeze. How  _could_  he gain control? His entire life he always embraced his passion, always pushed it to the limits. Sidious always preached patience, which was a form of control…no. Patience would not aid him here. Discipline would…but how?

"You look very lost," Harlene pointed out.

His jaw clenched. "I will find a way. It will just take some time."

"Maul, I know your determination knows no bounds, but please be realistic. You don't know a damn thing about controlling passion. This isn't something you can accomplish on your own."

"So, what do you suggest then?" His voice was harsh, but it mostly stemmed from the fact that he knew she was right.

Harlene looked away again and didn't speak for a long time.

"I do have a solution," she said very quietly. "You're not going to like it. In fact, you're going to hate it with every fiber of your being."

"I do not care," he said sharply, but inwardly he was deeply relieved. "There is nothing I would not do to ensure your safety. Nothing."

She gave him a very measured look.

"Would you embrace the light of the Force?"

Maul's throat locked. It was a very long time before he could speak again, but the patience on Harlene's face never wavered.

"Yes," he managed finally and half expected blood to trickle from his mouth. "If it is what you wish, I will embrace the light side."

"The _light_  of the Force, Maul, not  _side_ ," she corrected. "I'll admit my knowledge of the Force isn't the best, but I do know it doesn't take sides. How can it? It's not a sentient entity, it's an energy shield."

Maul barely heard her. "You are certain this is the best solution to my dilemma?"

He was glad to see she was seriously considering the question. "I could research advanced meditation…but the Force is an intrinsic part of you. You've been using it to channel your passion all your life. If you really want control, you won't just need serenity. You'll need Force-amplified serenity. Also…Maul…" Her tone was very delicate. "Before you give your answer—"

"I already said yes," he snapped. "I do not retract oaths."

"Listen to me, you stubborn ass! I'm completely Force blind. I won't be able to teach you how to focus the light. There's only one kind of person who can do that."

Realization dawned, and so did rage.

"No…" A low growl.

"I'm afraid so, Maul," Harlene said grimly. "But it won't be as bad as you think. I do know a handful who aren't sanctimonious, self-righteous bastards."

"Anakin Skywalker—"

"—oh, please, Maul, I'm not _that_  stupid. You'd kill each other within five minutes."

He resisted the urge to proclaim only one would die and it would not be him. "Who then?" he grated out.

She bit her lip. "That I'll have to consider."

Neither of them spoke for a while. Inwardly, Maul seethed with indignation. There had to be another way. Embracing the light side he could tolerate. It would be for Harlene alone. Harlene who he had already embraced compassion for. But to be taught by a Jedi, to take direction from a Jedi...there were no words for such humiliation.

"The decision is still yours, Maul," Harlene said quietly, breaking the silence. "That hasn't changed. If you honestly feel this is something you can't do, then we'll find another way."

Weeks ago, he would have been able to convince himself with ease that there was another way. That he would be able to find control on his own. He still tried with all his might, but when his eyes roamed over Harlene's shoulder blades, he realized he was only wasting both of their time.

"So long as it is not Anakin Skywalker," he muttered at last.

Harlene's eyes went wide. She appeared almost awed.

"You're…you're serious?"

He glared at her. "I do not retract my oaths. But you should know that I would do this only for you."

"I know," she said softly. "And I'm honored."

The thrill of seeing her respect for him again made him momentarily forget his anxiety, and direct his focus solely on her. He noticed for the first time that the blanket that usually covered them while they slept had been haphazardly thrown onto the floor. A testament to the passion of their previous nightly activities.

"Maul?"

Ah, how he loved to hear her say his name in that soft, breathless, questioning way. Gently, he eased her onto her back. Many of the missions Sidious gave him in his previous life involved breaking into the lairs of wealthy politicians and crime lords. Most of them were male, so Maul had seen his fair share of scantily clad female humans and humanoids. Still, he had never seen one fully nude before. With equal measures of lust and curiosity, he allowed his gaze to slowly roam over every inch of his mate's body.

It was a blend of softness and strength. Her bones were large and strong, but her otherwise athletic musculature was partially hidden by a small amount of fat. He hoped it wasn't just due to her youth. The thought of her being whipcord lean wasn't quite fitting to him. His primary focus directed itself to the parts that were dissimilar to his own. The graceful, round shoulders; breasts capped with nipples of the palest pink; wide, curved hips; slender legs; small, delicately arched feet. He could touch her in so many ways. Her breasts would fit perfectly in the palm of his hands, as would the swell of her hips. Lightheaded awe threatened to consume him when he discovered that she possessed hair in a most  _interesting_ place…

"See something you like?"

She was flushed from her face almost to her chest. Her lips were curved into a small, almost nervous smile. Pleased. Anticipating.

Her face had his undivided attention, but he was fully aware of the building pressure around his horns and groin. Despite her attempts to hide it, he was well aware that her experience last night had not been that pleasant, and even painful. He knew that was normal for an untouched female, along with delicacy and soreness that lasted a day at the very minimum.

"Are you in pain?" he asked hoarsely.

"I healed myself," she whispered. "You won't hurt me."

"I could. In an entirely different manner." He started to pull away. "I will go and retrieve the sedatives and-"

"I'll be quicker," Harlene cut him off. "You said they're on the  _Schmitar_ , right?"

"Yes, but-"

She disappeared. Maul stared at the now empty spot on their bed dumbly. Ten seconds later several syringes manifested on the table beside the bed along with a full set of manacles. Before Maul could blink, he found himself pinned on his back by Harlene who was still wearing nothing but a mischievous, lustful expression.

"Now, then. Where were we?"

She leaned down to kiss him. Maul gripped her waist and decided he didn't loathe her teleportation powers nearly as much as he thought he did.

xXx

Just when Aurra thought the end of the hunt could not get any more anti-climactic, she was proven dead wrong. Landing her ship discreetly was nothing, trekking through the desert for half a day less so. When she located Captain Orn in the capital city of Kala'uun where the slave arrangement was being taken place out in the open and in broad day light, she was ready to kill something. Anything.

And she could. She could shoot Orn from her perch on one of the shuttas mud huts. It would have been child's play. But there were plenty of civilians and guards around, including Orn's own men. Making a clean getaway would be a bit of a challenge.

But it was not the kind of challenge she wanted. She wanted to chase her prey, make him run, trick him into believing he would get away before she made him realize the stupidity of even thinking he could. From the very start, fear would seep from his pores, and at the end it would be so potent she would all but taste it on her tongue.

She let the arrangement continue without interruption. Orn's men hauled twenty young Twi'lek girls onto their ship, while Orn himself dealt with official business. Aurra squinted to get a good look at his face. Already pitted and scarred it looked especially hideous thanks to a highly displeased scowl. Apparently, the good captain believed that the honest purchase/transport of slaves was beneath his talents. He desired a challenge, and a major one at that.

Aurra grinned.

_Be careful what you wish for._

Making her way back to her ship, she decided it had been too long since she had been in a dogfight. Being on his ship with his crew following his every order, Orn would run and he would fall into the trap of false security.

_Before you die, Captain Orn, your fear will be mine._

xXx

**MercedesSalander: 'Sup.**

**CaptainAwesomeO: Hey, Lizzie. Need a really big favor.**

**MercedesSalander: Then I need a really big payoff.**

**CaptainAwesomeO: You'll get it. But not in cash. Watch this video.**

Ten minutes later.

**MercedesSalander: Give me two hours.**

**CaptainAwesomeO: This can't be traced to me or you. They already want my sister.**

**MercedesSalander: Not a problem.**

**CaptainAwesomeO: 1 thing more. Gregory Borger. My History teacher. May be CAA.**

**MercedesSalander: Anything else?**

**CaptainAwesomeO: Good 4 now.**

**MercedesSalander: Future reference, this stuff I'll do 4 free.**

**CaptainAwesomeO: Thanks.**

**MercedesSalander: Well. Free enough.**

She logged off. Cody frowned. Five minutes later his inbox was flooded with a hundred new messages all from a user by the name of jasminebieber.

**CaptainAwesomeO: Fuck u Lizzie.**

xXx

After mating for the second time in the same morning, Maul decided that his opinion of intercourse was exactly the same as the one he had for compassion. Only a certain amount, and only with one person could it provide him with strength. Granted, intercourse was considerably more addictive than compassion, but such a fact pleased him. Here he could show restraint and control because he possessed it, not because some pretentious Jedi spent the last ten hours babbling on about serenity and the light.

That would come later.

He did not retract oaths, but he could not bring himself to feel shame during the several instances he contemplated doing exactly that when he and Harlene started to train. After all she herself said that she would not hold it against him if he refused, and he doubted she would even after he promised. Deep down, he knew he wouldn't, but contemplating refusal actually helped to give his rage better focus.

"I think I know who would be the best to teach you," she said once they were finished. "He's incredibly knowledgeable. But most of all, I think you two won't kill each other if you make just a smidgen of effort to find common ground."

"Who is it?" Maul fancied he didn't sound  _too_  murderous.

Harlene bit her lip and looked away. "Maybe it would be best if I asked him first. If he says no, at least you wouldn't have wasted time in trying to control your Jedi bloodlust around one you're never gonna meet."

"All Jedi are the same," Maul stated. "You may as well tell me now."

She smiled ruefully. "Maul, it really would be best until I asked him. Really. Really."

He inhaled through his mouth and exhaled slowly through his nostrils.

"Very well."

She too sighed, though far more wearily. "Maul, I really want you to know how much I appreciate you doing this. More for yourself than for me."

"You already know I would do this only, only for you."

"I know you feel that way right now. But me, I'm hoping for far more than that."

"What exactly are you hoping for?" he asked feeling something akin to dread.

"That you'll grow to be open-minded about certain things despite hating them."

He frowned. "But you hate the Jedi now."

"Yes, but my hatred isn't all-encompassing. I do respect a few Jedi and more than a few Jedi philosophies. Speaking of which…Maul I owe you an apology."

"For what?"

"You've been very adamant about expanding my education, but I haven't been as adamant in expanding yours. In our room, you'll find a shelf filled with books on subjects like politics, philosophy, and ethics. Some all my all-time favorites, some I despise so much it takes a lot of effort to simply look at them, and some I haven't gotten around to reading yet. If you decide to read any, I think we could have some very interesting discussions in the future."

Maul just stared at her. Then he felt himself smile.

"Is that a challenge, Observer?"

She grinned. "What do you think?"

His smile widened and he took her in his arms, kissing her passionately. What a fool he had been to imagine these sensations and believe they would hold a candle to reality. Being inside her, her bare flesh against his, her lips against his, even simply holding her as her mate.

_But she is not your mate,_  Lord Sidious whispered.  _She has sworn no oath to you. And there are plenty others who desire her._

Anakin Skywalker's face flashed in his mind and he growled.

"What's wrong?"

He stared into her eyes, determined to show her his control.

"You do not wish to be my true mate. But do you swear that you shall feel no other's touch while you feel mine?"

"I already said yes. Last night."

"You did not swear it."

"Then I swear it," she said.

Her sincerity could not have been more pure, but he found it only mollified him somewhat.

"Maul, this is never going to work if you don't trust me," Harlene said, an edge to her voice.

That he knew all too well. The cynical part of him warned that mistrust would certainly drive her into the arms of another. The more honorable part wanted desperately to trust her because of their bond and shared experiences. Both had great merit, but still…

"Listen," she said taking his face in her hands. "I know you're trying, and very hard at that. I'm not asking for everything right now. Only that you make the best effort you possibly can."

"That is all you have ever asked me for," he said and couldn't bring his voice a pitch above a whisper.

"And it's all I ever will."

"Do I not disappoint you when I fail?"

"Sometimes. I've messed up badly before, but I promise you that even when you fail, torture and abandonment are two things you will never have to fear." Her gaze dropped from his eyes to his jaw, and she ran a tender hand over it. "Sidious did this to you, didn't he?"

Knowing what she meant, he drew back slightly. "It is of no—"

She put two fingers to his lips. "Yes," she said firmly. "It most certainly is."

A look of concentration entered her face. Maul's gums and jaw tingled for several seconds before the chronic pain in them completely vanished.

Harlene kissed him, long and hard before backing away.

"See you soon."

Maul stared at the now vacated area in front of him. He then found himself rushing to their quarters and into the refresher. There was a flat piece of metal over the sink that served well enough as a mirror. Maul bared his teeth at his reflection. They were white and healthy. He clenched them hard. Not an ounce of pain.

Maul slumped against the sink, head bowed. Only his hands on the counter kept him steady.

xXx

Harlene didn't leave the bubble right away. She teleported to the top of one of the factories, her back to the one she and Maul

_(called home)_

stayed in.

Her hand rested itself on the rail, finger slowly wrapping around it. It wasn't due to fatigue, but she needed to hold onto something, anything. Her free hand inched itself up to her face where her fingers made the barest hint of contact with her lips. They then curled into a half-fist as her mouth birthed a euphoric grin that was enhanced even further by soundless laughter.

Because she found ripping her own heart out a better alternative to completely hiding or draining this particular emotion (then again, she highly doubted she would be able to even with her abilities), she opted for good ol' natural self-discipline. And it worked very well until said control was thwarted by a dreamy look at a sparkling water glass and the sharp, ruthless eyes of Noelle Wong.

"So, how was it?"

"Hmmm?"

"How. Was. It?" Noelle reiterated.

"How was what?"

"Don't waste your time with that bullshit, Harlene. You know you're gonna spill the beans eventually. Might as well make it now."

"Hey, are we missing something here?" Roan sounded politely curious. Jacob was silent, but a small shadow was beginning to descend over his features.

"Yeah, and you have nothing to blame except for those blindfolds of retarded wrapped over your eyes." She pointed at Harlene. "Look at her. Really look at her."

Harlene just stared back calmly when she found herself under the intense scrutiny of her two adopted brothers. She didn't raise any barriers, still finding that somewhat of an impossibility. As she told Maul, she had to be willing to hide her feelings as much as able.

Maul…

"Yeah." A slow grin began to form on Roan's face. "Yeah, I see it. I get it."

Jacob said nothing, but the shadow on his was growing considerably darker.

Roan leaned in closer and whispered, "It's Maul, isn't it?"

Harlene looked away, met his eyes again, smiled, and gave a small nod.

"So, how was it?" Noelle inquired once again before anyone could say anything.

"Oh, come one, Noelle, you can't ask something like that now. This is for you girls to—"

"Come on, tell us," Noelle cut him off. "Just ignore the chauvinist. Pretend he's not there."

"I'm not a chauvinist—!"

"Painful."

Everyone went dead quiet.

"It was…painful and uncomfortable the first time," Harlene admitted slowly. "But…I wouldn't have traded it for anything."

CRASH!

Jacob slammed his fork onto his plate. He then grabbed his tray and stormed out of the mess hall.

"Huh." Noelle's eyes followed him until he disappeared. "Methinks you might want to safeguard that bubble just a wee bit."

" _Me_ thinks he's just jumping to stupid conclusions." Roan said.

"Or he's just stupid," Harlene said with venom. Though she was only half-finished, she began to clear everything up. Before she could stand, Roan put a hand on her arm.

"Hey, we're planning on finishing that little surprise for Cody Harrington tonight. You wanna meet up later and see if there's anything you'd like to add?"

Harlene replied affirmative before putting her dishes away. In the hallway, she took several deep breaths before spending an hour with Richard and two hours of practice. Only after singing for yet another hour did she seek Jacob out. The four of them had long since installed locators for all of their comms into their own personal ones, but Harlene didn't need to activate hers. She knew where he would be.

He bade her enter when she knocked without asking who it was. She stepped inside to find him slouching in an unnaturally lazy, awkward manner on a sofa reading the Old Testament. On the table beside him was a bottle of vodka.

Harlene sat on the sofa and crossed her legs. Jacob continued to read. He didn't even look up.

"Do you even know what your problem is, or should I just write this off as yet another one of your idle, jackass moments?"

She was pleased when his mouth tightened.

"Or maybe self-righteously hypocritical would be a more adequate description _. 'You can have fun with whoever you want. I sure as hell won't try and stop you.'"_

Slowly, he looked up.

"Do you  _see_  me trying to stop you?"

The room was brightly lit, but that only made the shadows on his face all the more dark.

"Noelle thinks I may have to safeguard the bubble," Harlene whispered. "Is she right?"

"Probably." He shrugged carelessly. "Asshole like me's capable of anything."

"Well then you'd better hope to God the Virus Creed never goes after your reality," Harlene said, deadly calm. "The canon plot won't matter after that. Even less so a few character disembowelments—"

"Oh, ease up, Lisbeth Lecter," Jacob flatly cut her off. "I'm not gonna hurt your precious boyfriend."

But he didn't return his attention back to his book. He was staring at her almost expectantly.

Harlene's brow rose. "Oh, I'm sorry, is this the part where I'm supposed to blush to the roots of my hair and vehemently protest that he's  _not_  my boyfriend?"

Instead of answering, he went back to reading.

Harlene had had enough.

"What. The fuck. Is. Your. Problem?"

Apparently aware that he was pushing it, Jacob looked up. "Why should I say it? We both already know."

"We most certainly do not."

"Oh, we most certainly do."

"Jacob, I swear to God, if you don't tell me what kind of bug is up your ass, I'm gonna kick you in the gut until you shit it out!"

Normally, Harlene found empty threats despicable, but right now she was too angry to care. Fortunately, Jacob took her somewhat seriously.

"All right, Harlene." He calmly put the Old Testament on the table. "If you really want me to spell it out, I will." He took a swing of vodka, glared at her, and shouted at the top of his lungs, "HE. AIN'T. GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU! You know it, I know it, everyone close to you knows it, and underneath all that arrogant, asswipe attitude,  _he_  knows it too!"

Harlene blinked, pursed her lips, and let her eyes downcast.

"Well, at least now I know yet another warning sign for an idle, jackass moment. It's bound to save me a ton of time in the future."

Before she could rise, Jacob grabbed her shoulders and shoved her back down. But the look of fury on his face simmered to one of deep annoyance.

"You know maybe I should just let you go. It's no good talking to you when you bring up all those righteous walls. Save  _my_ self a ton of time in the future."

"Talking to me." Harlene's voice was low, but outraged. "I was telling you about my first all-out sexual relationship, and you storm away—"

"All right, fine, Fine! I'm an inconsiderate jackass, but that's not the point. You can, you should have fun with whoever you want, but you really need to think this one through. He doesn't even love you. Hell, he's barely admitted he cares for you!"

"Really?" Harlene said with a mocking, dramatic gasp. "He doesn't love me? Wow. That's something I never would have figured out for myself."

"He doesn't love you," Jacob repeated, low and trembling. "But you love him. Don't deny it. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it in the way you move. I can even hear it in your breathing. You're in love, Harlene. Admit it."

Harlene was silent for a while.

"Yes," she said at last.

"And there was a 'but' that followed me saying you could have fun with whoever you wanted. Do you recall what followed said 'but?'"

"I do." Her voice grew hard and defiant. "And I can't even begin to tell you how fucking stupid you were for saying something like that to me."

Jacob laughed bitterly, incredulously. "Oh, Christ, you think I don't know that was a fucking stupid thing to say? I knew it then. I just said it in the vainest of hopes that it might make you actually  _think_  about what you were getting into."

"And I have yet to see why I should take you seriously when you're acting like I'm going to marry him." She paused, then added. "Well, he practically proposed afterward, but I said no."

Jacob wasn't the slightest bit mollified. "But you're in love with him."

"I already said that."

"We both agree he doesn't love you."

"Yes."

"Then we also have to agree that his opinion of love is on par to that of three day old shit."

"He's gained some respect for compassion," Harlene said quietly. "He even said he has compassion for me."

"And like pity it's not the same as being in love." Jacob put his face close to hers. "He detests love, but he has your heart. Meaning he can crush it without thought or remorse." His voice grew desperate. "Do you  _understand_ that?"

She did, but…

"If he can learn to embrace compassion, then over time he can learn and embrace love. I believe that." She looked Jacob right in the eye. "Do you believe he could grow to love me someday?"

She didn't need to tell him she wanted his unbiased opinion. Jacob ran a heavy hand through his hair and sighed deeply.

"Over time…yes. But it's going to be a very long and very,  _very_  painful road. For you. And he. Is not. Worth it."

Harlene glared. "I don't care if you don't think he's worth it." She turned to go.

"Harlene."

She stopped.

"Don't tell him. If nothing else, just…don't tell him."

_What am I, retarded?_  She wanted to say. Instead, she left to go train with Claire. Her mentor didn't give her a long speech when she was informed of the big change. Like so many times before she expressed her true feelings succinctly.

"He'd better treat you right. For his sake more than for yours."

Due to her above-average progress with advanced Capoeira and swordplay, those sessions were cut short in favor of Interface meditation. Only now was Harlene beginning to realize just how much power the Interface could give her virtual body. Already she could focus small amounts of raw energy into her hands and feet. She didn't need Claire to tell her said small amount would be enough for her to reduce an entire building to rubble with just one blow.

"Amazing," her mentor breathed.

Harlene stood up. "What is?"

"The power you can focus already. Harlene, none of your peers have come close to holding this much power for longer than five minutes. You've held it for over twenty so far!"

Stunned, Harlene looked at her hands. "How…?"

"Does it matter how?" Claire's golden eyes were glittering like coins as they always did when she was extremely excited. "Apprentice, you've always exceeded my expectations. But this…"

"We should tell Dr. Lexton or Anderson. Maybe—"

"No!" At Harlene's sharp look, she lowered her voice. "Harlene, listen to me. There is absolutely no cause for alarm. I've been keeping close watch on your vitals. You aren't in any danger." She smiled a smile that sent a chill down Harlene's spine. "But our enemies are. Far more so than they will ever imagine."

"But why not tell—?"

"I would trust the Founders with my life and yours," Claire said. "But I will never delude myself into believing they're infallible. Harlene, no one can know how much power you can channel. You have to promise me you won't tell anyone."

Harlene gaped. "Claire, we can't keep something like this a secret. There are countless technicians that check on the realities constantly."

"True. I can't keep everything from them. But I can keep this."

Harlene's brow rose. "Should I even ask?"

"It would be best if you didn't. Harlene…" Claire put her hands on her shoulders. "I'm asking you to trust me on this one. Can you?"

That could be called a low blow. Claire seldom called on Harlene's trust, but when she did Harlene was incapable of not giving it.

"All right."

Claire smiled.

Roan and even Noelle had the grace to not comment on the cold wall between Harlene and Jacob when they all met up that night. When Roan showed them all what he had in mind for Cody Harrington's gift, they were all equally stunned.

"God, how did you do this?" Noelle demanded.

"Using the two ingredients that make all things," Roan said, smiling. "Time and effort."

"And a whole lot of guts," Harlene added. "If anyone finds out, you could get in real trouble for this."

"Well, he's not going to be able to keep it," Roan said. "It'll serve as a rental for an hour or so. Speaking of which, is there anything you all would like to add?"

Harlene, Noelle, and Jacob all exchanged sly, knowing glances before booting up their comms.

xXx

**MercedesSalander: Done. Should spread worldwide thru the next 10 hrs.**

**CaptainAwesomeO: We're safe?**

**MercedesSalander: You're safe. Scout's honor.**

**CaptainAwesomeO: Thx.**

Cody logged off the chat room and leaned back in his chair. He released a deep breath and let his comm rest against his heart. Maybe this was it. Maybe the release of this video would spell the end for the CAA. Countless Klan members quit after Stephenson butchered Madge Oberholtzer after all, even if it was just for the media shit-storm that followed. He closed his eyes and savored the weight off his chest. It was better than dwelling on the horror that was currently spreading like wildfire over the Internet.

He may have dozed off for he nearly jumped a foot in the air when his comm beeped. He fumbled with it, flicked it on, and saw that someone was inviting him to a virtual chat room. That wasn't abnormal. What was abnormal was the connection. This wasn't just some random invite from some random person, or even a friend. Whoever they were, they had access to the best virtual reality had to offer…

His heart pounded. No. No, that couldn't be it. He laughed disbelievingly. There was no way.

But if there  _was..._

Well. There was no way in  _hell_  he was missing this.

But just to make sure this wasn't some psycho stalker, he contacted MercedesSalander again to do a background check.

xXx

After triple-checking the settings on her starfighter, Aurra powered up the _Predator_  and maneuvered it on the far side of the planet, just above the atmosphere. She would remain here in still orbit until the tracking device she attached to Orn's ship warned her that the captain was departing. Then she would make her move. Her plan was to chase Orn into the asteroid field a mere quarter of a parsec from Ryloth. She would have her fun playing cat and mouse for a while, loop around a bit, tease him into a rage. If she were lucky she could drive him to smash into a few floating rocks, but she never relied on luck. The Predator would do some of the necessary damage before she pretended to take a devastating hit. She would then leave the  _Predator_  adrift and helpless. Before Orn could deliver the final blow, she would sneak up from behind in her starfighter and blast the engines into oblivion. All there would be left after that was boarding and capturing. Dead or alive. Either one was acceptable for the reward, but she really wanted to get him alive.

A red light flashed on the console. It was time to go.

She rounded around the planet only after Orn was clear and then fired two shots off the starboard side. An aft cannon nearly clipped the cockpit before proceeding to fire at one of her engines. His gunmen were very good. A normal pilot, however skilled, would have taken at least some damage before returning fire. But not only was Aurra Sing the best, she had the Force. This was fun already, but the real fun would begin when they reached the asteroid field.

xXx

Harlene was glad that they sent Cody's present when they did for not an hour later, they were all informed that their vacation time would be drastically cut short thanks to CAA attacks across New York, Texas, and California. Those rioters weren't exactly innocent either.

_Ces't la vi,_  Harlene thought with a sigh as she jacked in. After making her usual rounds, she made contact with the Jedi who would help Maul embrace the light side. She wasn't surprised that it took very little persuasion. She had always known it would be him, had to be him. He was the only one who could teach Maul in a way that would serve to strengthen him rather than diminish his spirit.

The easy part was over. Now it was time to actually tell Maul who would be teaching him.

As expected, he threw the biggest tantrum she had ever seen him throw. It severely tested her resolve, but she made good on her vow not to raise her voice (for the most part) and to wait him out if he ranted.

In the end he agreed, something which didn't shock her as much as it would have prior to their post-sex conversation. He had changed quite a bit, but she wasn't ignorant, and she had grown to understand his tone and body language very well. He agreed for her, but also for himself. He believed she chose this particular Jedi in order to test him, and he was determined to pass it, to prove himself to her. Harlene nearly told him it wasn't a test, but in the end she didn't. While no other Jedi she had access to could teach Maul properly, she couldn't deny that a part of her did want to test him. What's more, she didn't feel guilty about it at all. She was downright anticipating the upcoming results. Initiation would begin shortly, but first it was time to pay Anakin a visit.

She didn't need her comm to locate him. Because it was evening on Coruscant she knew he would be where he had been practically living for the past month: in an isolated meditation room in the Jedi Temple.

On the way she spotted Mace Windu talking with Kit Fisto, Agen Kolar, and Saesee Tiin in a deserted hallway, their tones hushed and grim. While the rage that roared through her whenever she was subjected to the sight, voice, or smell of nearly any Jedi had become as familiar as the pattern of her thumbprints it had never been potent enough to compel her subconscious mind to channel currents of electricity in her hands and behind her eyes. Now it was, and she sure as fuck knew why. Bubble or no bubble, they were the kind of people who would rape someone's mind and then rationalize it with self-righteous bullshit. It would be so easy to just shed her invisibility, channel seventy-thousand volts into her hands and then lay them on the brows of four creatures so detestable that it wouldn't be enough for them to bear the label of monster.

Harlene let out a long breath and dispelled the energy. Rage was fine, but not when it could cheat her out of a truly satisfying revenge. She took the hot flaming ball and stored it in the coldest freezer her mind possessed. In a short time she would withdraw it. Her mental fist would shatter it into a thousand icy daggers that would embed in her tongue and be fired at her whim and her whim alone.

In time.

Once the freezer was locked she was able to fully appreciate the irony of the sight. Originally, only Mace and Yoda had "known" that Darth Sidious may be someone in Palpatine's inner circle. The only reason Mace let Obi-Wan in on the little secret was so that he could keep a better eye on Anakin's relationship with the Chancellor.

Harlene didn't need to check the Founder's information archives to guess that Mace was the one who persuaded Yoda to keep the secret. In his righteousness, the son of a bitch had managed to fool himself into believing this was some 'the less people know the better' horseshit. With each passing day ever since the Clone Wars started, he had grown more and more possessive of his beloved Republic. After learning a Sith Lord may be ruling it from within the shadows, he had evolved from possessive lover to fanatical-stalker-possessive-no-one-else-helps-you -without-my-permission lover. Exactly like Anakin. It made Harlene want to sink to the floor and laugh.

Instead, she went to Anakin's meditation room. The time to enact her revenge on the Jedi would be very soon, she knew, but not quite yet. Still, she could have a bit more fun beforehand. But first things first.

After checking her comm to make sure Anakin wasn't immersed in the Force, she knocked.

"Enter."

She opening the door and smiled, taking the seat beside him. "Hey. How's everything going?"

"Well. Very well," he said. "I'm getting so close, Harlene,  _so close._  At this rate, I doubt I'll even need Plagieus' secret. With this much power…there's nothing I won't be able to do."

The mechanical edge to his voice that she heard when he started speaking was now combined with a fanatical joy. It was incredibly creepy, especially with the way his bloodshot blue eyes shone at her through his sleep-starved face. He was enjoying this 'inward thinking' probably even more than Palpatine hoped he would. Nearly all aspects of the kind, selfless, nine-year-old she had met years ago had been dead for over a decade, but seeing him like this was what made her truly grieve for them. The boy was dead. And this twisted, selfish shell was all that was left.

It saddened her more than she could say.

But it also enraged her.

_Time to deliver the second dosage._

"You love it very much," she said quietly.

"What?"

"The power. You love it very much."

"The power's just a tool, Harlene," he insisted. "Once I hone it to perfection, you, Padme, my child…nothing will ever be able to hurt you again. I promise you that."

"But you love it very much."

A frown creased his forehead. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying be careful," she said. "Anakin, you're an incredibly arrogant individual. Don't you dare look at me that way. I'm not saying this to be cruel. It's a fact. Your ego is very fragile, and very large. That's an already a deadly combination that can become fatal before you know it, especially with your current activities."

He lurched to his feet. Teeth bared and eyes blazing, he bore down on her. "I'm trying to keep the people I love safe! I'm trying to keep my wife from dying in childbirth! Are you telling me that's wrong!?"

"I'm not talking about your goals, Anakin, I'm talking about your methods. And your methods aren't wrong or evil by themselves. I myself wouldn't be above using them, or any methods for that matter, if I felt it was the right thing to do. But remember, you've been concentrating on yourself during your meditations these past weeks. And your goal is to save the life of someone you love."

His eyes narrowed. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"If you think I'm saying that you could lose sight of your goal in favor of what you're focusing on in order to get the power to save your wife, then you would be absolutely correct."

Anakin glared at her, furious and trembling, before turning away.

"I don't believe you," he spat.

"You should," Harlene replied darkly. "I'm your sister, Anakin, not your yes-man."

"I never wanted you to be!" he snarled, rounding on her. "But you thinking for even one second that I could value power, myself, more than I could my own wife—"

"—means I'm the most realistic person in this room!" Harlene allowed her voice to rise as she stood up. "That kind of thinking can corrupt anyone.  _Anyone_. Including me. Anakin, I love you. I would die for you. I would bear torture for you. I would do anything in the fucking universe for you. But if I spent weeks focusing on myself in order to channel power, there is a very, very high possibility that it would permanently affect the way I think, react, and feel. Even if it's just for a moment…it could very well be your last moment."

He went very pale. "You don't mean that."

"I do," she said grimly. "But the fact that I'm willing to admit it gives me far more protection than a person who isn't willing to admit it. Anakin, did it ever occur to you that in trying to save Padme's life, you could end up killing her yourself?"

He bit his lip and looked away. "For a moment…but I remember what you said. About her begging me for forgiveness...for something she believed she did…"

"That's just one hypothesis, Anakin. Are you willing to bet Padme's life on it?"

Conflict brewed behind his eyes before he turned to her. "I know my goal, Harlene. I'll never lose sight of it. Never."

Harlene left with a deep sense of satisfaction. A fine job if she did say so herself. Time to inform Claire.

"I just told Anakin that his self-absorbed brooding could push him to kill his whore."

**"That's dangerous, apprentice."**

"No, it's not. I used just the right amount of truth and persuasion. He considered what I said, but in the end he still stuck to his guns. The second dosage has been delivered."

**"Second dosage?"**

"The first dosage was giving him the dream theory that his whore's sniveling, whining apologies meant that some kind of guilt's gonna kill her. Guilt that she did something to hurt him. Now I've planted the seed that the actions he's taking to save her are going to kill her in the end. That _he's_  going to kill her in the end."

**"That's very cruel, Harlene. After he awakens in the suit…ah."**

Harlene grinned. "Sidious' little revelation is gonna be an iron-knuckled punch to the soul, but now I've added a couple of spikes to it."

**"And why would you do such a thing?"**

"The Jedi will pay for butchering his humanity, but  _he_  is going to pay for reveling in his Tusken Raider genocide along with everything else past, present, and future. This is all I can do for now without interfering directly."

**"Is it enough?"**

"Far from it. But you know what? I'm glad that I can't interfere right now. Nothing like a few limits to inspire your creativity." In the distance, she heard familiar voices and uncloaked herself. "Speaking of which…" She turned around and put Claire on hold the exact moment Mace Windu, Saesee Tiin, Kit Fisto, and Agen Kolar rounded around the corner.

Mace didn't waste a moment.

"What are you doing here, Observer?"

Harlene smiled.

"You know, Mace, I'm glad that the fact that what I do is none of your goddamn business will never pierce through that thick skull of yours. Because that uncompromising, demanding tone of yours gets funnier every time you use it."

"I can say the same thing for your expectations," Mace countered before the other three could protest their indignation. "Do you honestly think we don't know what you were trying to accomplish with your little sit-in?"

"Oh, don't keep me in the dark now." She grinned a feral grin. "What was I trying to accomplish?"

"You can find someone else to humor your antics. All you need to know is that they're failing miserably."

"As miserably as the Republic is failing? How it's been failing for thousands of years?"

"So you really are a Separatist." There was a definite note of grim triumph in the Korun Master's tone. "Can't say I'm surprised."

"No, Mace, I'm a realist," Harlene corrected patiently. "You're a self-righteous, dogmatic, fanatical ass. But I digress. My superiors will be telling me their decision of whether or not to give you aid very soon."

"And if they choose to aid us," Mace said, not in any way acknowledging her insult to him, "what would be their price?"

"Mmm." Harlene bit her lip. "That's hard to say."

"If it's any form of power or authority over the Republic, then tell them not to waste their time."

The flat dismissal in his answer was followed a brusque brush-past. But Harlene wasn't done.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, Mace. When I told my superiors that you and Yoda strongly suspected Sidious may be hiding among the Chancellor's inner circle, their opinion of the Republic became even lower than mine. And that's saying something."

It was as if Mace had become a statue of granite. Saesee, Agen, and Kit on the other hand all blanched.

"The Sith among…" Kit's already enormous eyes widened. "…What are you talking about?"

Harlene looked at him as if he were dense. "Darth Sidious could be hiding among Palpatine's inner circle. What, you didn't know that?" When he continued to look incredulous, Harlene demanded of Mace Windu, "You and Yoda have suspected this for months, and you haven't even told your fellow council members?"

Mace turned around very slowly. "What Master Yoda and I decide, Observer, is and never will be your concern. You seem to be incapable of getting _that_  fact through _your_  thick skull, and for your sake I hope that you do. Very, very soon."

Harlene cocked her head. "Are you trying to intimidate me? Because if you are, you're doing a very bad job at it." Without waiting for an answer, she shrugged carelessly. "Oh, well. I guess to expect more from you would be optimism to the point of sheer stupidity." She shrugged again and disappeared.

xXx

Orn fell for the decoy rather easily, but Aurra's grin only got wider as two proton torpedoes sliced right through the unshielded hull, which exploded in a burst of flak. Cranking up the sublight engines, she angled _The Stinger_ through the newly created doorway. It had barely touched ground when she ignited her lightsaber and leaped from the cockpit. Her guard remained up when she landed in a crouch. The hanger bay was deserted.

To the eyes of a Force-blind idiot.

"I can feel you. All of you," she crooned. "Come out, come out, wherever you are…"

Her right hand shot out. A large cylinder lifted itself in the air and came crashing down. Blaster fire erupted on every side, drowning out the death squeal that followed. But it didn't drown out Aurra Sing's laughter. She picked off one, two, three, four, before she barely caught the shadow of numerous, writhing tentacles ducking into the supposed safety of a doorway. Aurra grinned, jumped to the bridge above and followed.

He didn't get far. Three minutes and five corpses later, she cornered him in some kind of cramped weapons room. He was standing sideways to her by a table arrayed with an assortment of knives, daggers, and various other…tools. In his hand was a long, sharp black object. He was gazing at it as if it contained every secret of the universe.

"Hello, Aurra Sing." His attention on the object never wavered. "Welcome to the Room of Trust."

Aurra leveled her blaster at his head. "Drop it."

A small smile curled his lipless mouth as he calmly lowered the object to the table.

"Now come towards me. And keep your hands where I can see them. We're taking a little trip to the Iridonian Mid Rim colonies. They're dying to see you."

"But why would you want to leave, Aurra Sing? You're right where you need to be."

Aurra bared her teeth. The murglak still wasn't looking at her. "You want me to stun you? That can be arranged very easily."

"Do you trust, Aurra Sing?"

Now he looked at her. That scarred, grotesque face held an expression of honest curiosity. The fingers of her free hand twitched, aching to claw his eyes out.

"Yes," he said softly before she could snarl another threat. "You do trust. But it's…tattered. Broken. That won't do at all."

The door hissed shut and locked behind them. Only the best assassin training the galaxy had to offer enabled Aurra to keep her blaster steady.

"Are you insane?!"

"I'm where I belong. Because I trust." His smiled widened. "And you don't."

Another sharp hissing sound was her only warning. Captain Orn's form was suddenly blurred and distorted by clouds of pale fumes. Before Aurra could pull the trigger or run, her entire body was hit by a searing paralysis. She fell sideways, her blaster clattering away from her. Despite everything, she wasn't surprised that Harlene's face was the last thing her mind's eye saw before it was ruthlessly plunged into oblivion.

xXx

Darth Maul knew full well he was being tested.

He spared a moment of gratitude that Harlene did not think so little of his intelligence that she would deny it, despite not having outright confirmed it. She didn't have to. Why should she have to when even the blindest most mentally challenged of fools would be howling with outrage should they be told that this was not a test. Because it most certainly, definitely, was.

He paced his training room, movements fluid as they were furious, eyes occasionally darting to the datapad that contained notice of Harlene's upcoming arrival with his new…

…teacher.  _Teacher._  The word felt like a blade encrusted with millennia-year-old rust and soaked in the foulest toxin known to sentient creatures, but he forced the word into his mind. He would pass this test. It was imperative that he pass it. Failure of a test like this could and would obliterate all of the respect Maul had earned back from Harlene. He would pass it. There was no other alternative. Still, he wished he knew what he could do to properly prepare for it. Or perhaps he should be grateful he at least possessed preparation time, something Lord Sidious had never granted him in his previous life. But Harlene was not Lord Sidious. Harlene believed in him firmly even when he failed, Harlene continuously granted him mercy he would never deserve no matter what she said. Instead of leaving him to his own devices, she was doing her utmost to help him with this unbearably humiliating weakness. She had even offered to find another solution if he believed he could not handle this one…

The Force flared behind him. A presence powerful, and hideously familiar.

"Hello, Maul."

Gut roiling in a thousand different forms of loathing, Darth Maul turned around. Harlene stood a few feet away, neutral but on hair-breadth red alert. Behind her, wearing an expression of politeness and wariness on his rugged face, and far more than close enough to touch was Qui-Gon Jinn.

He.  _Would not_.

_Fail._

 


	20. Chapter 20

 

**"Power levels that high that soon. I know this is your apprentice we're talking about but…I'll be damned to the deepest hole it hell."**

**"Of course you are."**

**"Do I detect a trace of worry, or am I imagining things?"**

**"We both know why I can channel the Interface at such high levels, and so far it hasn't affected my overall health. Harlene on the other hand…I only have theories. Good theories, but theories all the same."**

**"Am I right in guessing your main theory is her strong emotional connection to her reality?"**

**"Yes. Those dreams she had, and Maul coming back to life. As I've said before, many of us have developed incredible relationships with characters and our realities in general, but no dead character has ever been reformed with their memories perfectly intact without outside assistance. Even if Maul's death was a phenomenal contrivance on George Lucas' part."**

**"Maybe she has Maul to thank for her power."**

**"The thought has crossed my mind. But even so. Power levels this high…there's more to this. Far more. I need to have her brain scanned again. She's already complained of headaches whenever she uses her barriers. I need to make sure this isn't going to damage her."**

**"And if it looks like it will?"**

**"Then she'll just have to limit her power intake to the point where it doesn't damage her."**

**"Now I believe I detect a hint of guilt."**

**"I was very excited when she showed me what she could do. I got…caught up in the moment. But her well-being is my priority."**

**"As it always will be."**

**xXx**

Qui-Gon Jinn had known about Harlene's unique gift almost since the moment he met her. Understanding it had taken more time, but as he stood in front of a very much alive Darth Maul he found that any remaining components were falling perfectly into place. Seeing Maul with his physical eyes alone told him a great deal. The young Dark Jedi's stance was nothing short of predatory, and the hatred his physical presence was radiating alone would have suffocated a lesser man. But reaching into the Force, Qui-Gon was astounded at the effort Maul was putting into reigning in not only his hatred, but instincts so profound they may as well have been written into his very DNA. A moment later, Qui-Gon discovered what was giving him the strength to do so. Not that he had to reach into the Force to find out. There was only one thing in all the universe that could give Maul such strength.

It was incredibly tiny. No larger than a pinprick. Yet it penetrated the most profound darkness Qui-Gon had ever sensed in his first life. The way Maul's eyes changed when they fell on Harlene as she walked toward him made Qui-Gon believe that the boy was not unaware of it, despite not having fully accepted it.

Harlene laid a hand on the young Dark Jedi's face.

"I'm trusting you, Maul."

Maybe it should have been unnerving that the intensity in Maul's eyes, the burning desire to prove himself, reminded Qui-Gon so strongly of Obi-Wan. But instead he found it rather…comforting.

"You will not regret doing so," Maul whispered fervently.

"I know I won't," Harlene said. Qui-Gon heard the smile in her voice.

Their lips met, confirming what the Jedi Master had already strongly suspected. He watched the red lights on the opposite wall until the moment passed and Harlene was gone. He then turned to face his new charge. The smoldering hatred that had dimmed in Harlene's presence was now blazing like a forest fire, and yet unlike a forest fire. Forest fires were without conscience or control. While it was a terrible struggle to maintain both, Darth Maul was not lacking in either one.

Qui-Gon took several steps toward him, stopping at a short but respectful distance.

"You're very different from before."

The Zabrak sneered. Qui-Gon noted with curiosity that his teeth were no longer blackened.

"You remain the same as all Jedi do."

"Your prejudices concern me far less than your blindness." Qui-Gon's eyes narrowed. "I, too, have undergone a great amount of change."

"Before or after I impaled you through the ribs?"

"Mostly after," Qui-Gon replied, not batting an eye at the taunt. "Becoming one with the Force opens you to knowledge and understanding beyond any mortal imagination. But only if one makes certain choices during their time as a mortal."

"Do not preach to me," Maul snarled. "I will obey your instructions and tolerate your lectures, but only when they relate to the teachings of the light side."

"Another testament to your blindness," Qui-Gon said. "What I just said relates perfectly to the teachings of the light." He took several more steps until he was directly in the Zabrak's personal space. "I will instruct you in the ways of the light, but whether you want to learn them is entirely up to you." He paused. "You feel an overwhelming amount of animosity toward me and not just because I'm a Jedi. In order for me to teach you, an understanding between us is far more vital than any amount of civility. So I ask: what is the true source of your hatred for me?"

"You know." Maul's fingers were twitching as if aching to bring his blade to bear. "You mock me."

"I have always known you detest my connection to Harlene, but there is more. I can sense it. Tell me what it is."

Maul's first reaction to the order was to bare his teeth and gather the Force. Qui-Gon stood firm and without fear. Finally—

"You stole her from me."

It was a highly vehement accusation, filled with overwhelming rage and terror. But it was also familiar rage and terror, and Qui-Gon was now certain of what he was dealing with.

"She chose to be in my company just as she chose to be in yours. I couldn't steal her even if I wanted to." He paused then said, "Tell me, Maul, did you ever share this belief with Harlene herself?" Maul didn't reply. "Then you must know it isn't true. Just as you must know someone of Harlene's character would be highly insulted by the prospect that she could be stolen by anyone."

Qui-Gon considered the wisdom of discussing Maul's irrational emotions and decided against it. Logic alone seemed to be working somewhat. It would be prudent to save more personal subjects for later.

"You know of her newfound hatred for the Jedi."

"Most Jedi," Qui-Gon said.

"Are you aware that she butchered four of your kind without a second thought? That she is currently plotting to extract her own form of vengeance on the Jedi Order as a whole?"

Maul's smile was nothing short of rabid, yet Qui-Gon only sighed.

"I am."

"And you know you are helpless to stop her. Just as you are helpless to stop the annihilation of the entire Jedi Order."

"If your goal is to provoke me, then I suggest you don't waste your time. I don't possess Harlene's vengeful streak, but I am aware that the Jedi have brought their future destruction on themselves. For the sake of the galaxy, I wouldn't stop it even if I had the power."

Maul blinked, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"Do you expect me to believe you?"

"I couldn't care less either way. Now are you prepared for your first lesson, or do you wish to tell Harlene about how we wasted all our time verbally sparring when she asks for a progress report?"

Maul seethed for a moment, but nodded curtly.

It was valuable to know disappointing Harlene was almost as strong a dampening effect on the boy's anger as threats to her wellbeing.

xXx

"You wanted to talk, Count?"

Dooku waited until the girl was seated across from him before speaking. "You omitted several details when voicing your request to my former apprentice."

Harlene raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"For your sake as well as the sake of your precious lover," Dooku didn't bother to hide the sneer of distaste in his voice, "you should have been honest with Qui-Gon."

Harlene leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "You don't approve of the new relationship upgrades?"

"He is not worthy of you. Not before and most certainly not now."

She disappeared. From behind his chair, Dooku felt a hand on his shoulder, the icy touch biting through his clothing. "You never struck me as the masochistic type, Count." Her finger trailed down his temple slowly, almost lovingly. "Those bestiality cracks you've been dying to let loose for the past hour must be hammering against that hard, Nazi skull of yours something royal. Come now. You don't have to suffer like that. Let it all out." Her breath tickled his ear. "Let…it…out."

Dooku didn't speak for several moments. His entire body was already shaking, but at least it was within his power to keep his voice steady.

"You were not lying when you told Qui-Gon that Maul fears harming you due to uncontrollable bursts of rage and passion, but you failed to inform him that said rage and passion stems from activities performed in his bed rather than his sparring room. Do you deny it?" When there was no answer, Dooku added, "That was very unwise, Harlene."

Silence. Then Harlene rounded around Dooku's chair to occupy the one across from him once again. Dooku heaved an enormous mental sigh.

"It was the lesser of two evils. Yes, it's bad that Qui-Gon doesn't know exactly why he's teaching Maul to embrace the light, but Maul still hates Qui-Gon more than any Jedi in the universe. It was a miracle of God I got him to agree to this in the first place. I doubt I would have if I hadn't promised Maul I would keep the details as vague as possible."

"Did he make you promise?"

"No.  _I_  promised."

"Harlene, you know very well that was completely unnecessary. It was by no miracle of any god that you got Maul to agree. The boy would give up the Force and live out the rest of his life as your personal jester if you demanded it. Revolting as you may find the notion, taking advantage of it would prove invaluable when his wellbeing is in jeopardy."

"Same old Dooku. Always thinking that the quickest, easiest, bloodiest way will always get him what he wants, how he wants." The girl smiled mirthlessly. "Just so you know, Count, knowing the way of the Sith leads to personal ruin doesn't mean jackshit if you're still living in Sith reality."

Dooku sighed. He should have guessed this would have ended in her giving yet another smug lecture.

"If you do not wish to listen to my advice—"

"Oh, shut up, Dooku, I  _always_  listen to your advice. I listened right now, but as someone who's almost never been on the receiving end of healthy nurturing  _and_  who's spent the last years of his life as a full-blown Sith, you're not qualified to give me advice. Not with this."

"Perhaps not," Dooku said darkly. "But you are most certainly not qualified to make presumptions about my upbringing."

"Of course I'm not. After all, it's not like I don't have access to all past, present, and future events in this dimension. Including your life and your thoughts."

Dooku was no longer a being of flesh and blood, but the sensation of skin crawling was no less real in the realm of the Force than it was on mortal planes. He had long known she and her kind had the ability to commit such violations, but this was the first time she had dangled that fact over his head.

"That must make you feel very powerful."

She chuckled and shook her head. "You're  _still_  doing that?"

"Doing what?"

"Using that  _tone._  Trying to goad me into really examining my not so favorable qualities. Hoping that I'll find them so revolting I'll deny them to the point where they'll writhe and fester in my soul until, before I know it, I can't control them anymore. It's an excellent strategy, and it works like a charm against people like Sora Bulq and Quinlan Vos. As in, people who literally drown in self-righteous hypocrisy." She smiled pityingly. "But me—I know what I am. I accept what I am; even if I do sometimes cringe from what I see in the mirror."

Dooku did know that. And though he would rather be plunged into that horrible darkness again than say so out loud, he envied her that. It was incredibly unfair (and even more unnatural) that someone so young could possess such a strong sense of personal insight. He craved to know if it was merely her nature or if she just possessed very competent teachers.

_Why not ask?_

Dooku scowled inwardly.  _Just because I am often at the receiving end of her mockery doesn't mean I welcome it._

_If you truly want to be better than what you are—and are willing to try—she will help you. You don't even have to take my word for it. Just look at her track record._

He…couldn't deny that.

"What's the matter? Haven't stunned you speechless, have I?"

He straightened in his chair. "I will say it once more: I have no desire to see you become Sith."

"And yet you still used the tone. Meaning you still have one foot in Sith mentality. And while it's there, you'll never be free."

Dooku took a deep breath.

"I am aware of that."

Her brow rose.

"Really."

"Yes. And the knowledge is…unsettling to say the least."

"Then why not do something about it?"

Dooku laced his fingers together on his lap. "You know that during my time as a Jedi I was very unsure of myself. I knew their methods and their ways were wrong, yet I still remained."

"Can't really blame you for that. The way of the Jedi was all you knew."

Dooku's shoulders relaxed marginally.

"When I met Sidious—when he offered me a new way—it was as if I had been blind all my life and was suddenly granted the miracle of sight again."

"And now you know that's only what Sidious wanted you to believe. But your time as a Sith was still the only time you ever felt truly certain of your actions. Of yourself."

"Yes."

She smiled. "Our fear of the unknown far outweighs our fear of death, pain, or offending others. Even if fatal illusions are our only barrier against it. Who do you want to be?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me."

Dooku thought for a few minutes before proceeding to shelve his dignity to the farthest corner of his mind.

"I have no idea."

"That's fine. Just don't let that be the last time you ask yourself that question. Quite the contrary, ask yourself that as often as you possibly can, and without frustration or any other negative emotions. You do that and you'll know the answer soon enough."

"And you are certain of this because…?"

"Dooku. Look around you. Are you in some black void or some fiery pit of darkness so-called followers of my religion believe you're destined to go to if you lead a life of sin? Are you  _all alone?"_

"I am not."

"That's why I'm certain. It's one of the reasons I've only ever harmed you here when I found out what you helped do to Maul."

"And the other reason?"

"While you get a five out of five on the Detestable List—"

"— _Detestable_  List?"

"My list of the five most detestable labels anyone can possess. Number five is a whore: someone who compromises their ethics for selfish, stupid, weak, or evil reasons. Number four is a bigot: one who is narrowly or intolerantly devoted to his or her opinions and prejudices. Number three is a Nazi: one who believes one master race should reign supreme over all other races. Number two is a monster: a creature with no conscience. Number one is a self-righteous hypocrite: someone who looks down on others for not following the principles they claim to follow yet don't follow. Your score is five out of five, Dooku. But it's your lack of empathy for your fellow beings that makes you a thing and not a person."

"Oh?"

"Yes. Empathy makes a person, not sentience. If it has no empathy, then it's just a self-aware sack of meat."

"If your opinion of me is truly so low," Dooku said slowly, "then why haven't you tried to yank me from this portion of the Force into a far more torturous one?"

"I told you reason one. Reason two comes from another quote courtesy of the Almighty Creator in  _Joan of Arcadia_ that the pitiful sight of you made me take to heart _."_

"What is that?"

"'I don't punish people. You punish yourselves. You're so good at it, I could almost retire.'"

He was spared answering when her comm chimed. She lifted it up to her eye and frowned. Over a period of five minutes, that frown morphed into an expression of triumph that was even more feral than the rage combined with it.

"Later, Count," she said and disappeared.

xXx

A good actor faked emotions effectively. An excellent actor actually felt the emotion he intended to portray. So, technically, excellent actors didn't act. But Trent Carlyle was not seeking an Oscar for his performance. He had a far more valuable prize on his mind.

His struggles, curses, and rage were all real when he was strapped down by that shitblood-loving dyke. Only when exhaustion overcame him as she ran her tests did he allow his mind to relax. She didn't suspect a thing. He could do this. Even if he didn't know how yet.

"Don't tell me you've dozed off already." That sharp voice cut through his temporary peace like a sword. "It's only been six hours."

Instinct told Trent to let his mouth run a bit. He decided it would be more dangerous to ignore it even if it was potentially suicidal. He would gain nothing by lying here silently while she prodded him.

"Six hours, huh?" He looked around the lab as best he could. "You've been in here a lot longer than that. You only came out 'cause you knew I came back. Bet you haven't eaten or pissed all day. Maybe you're not even a dyke. Maybe you're just a robot."

She turned away from the screen she had been examining and met his gaze. It was unreadable, and that alone would have been shit-your-pants scary. Trent burned his gaze into hers even as she approached the examining table he was strapped to.

"Well, the secret's out," she said very quietly. "Congratulations. You're the first one to know."

"Nah. Everyone knows it. They're just scared you'll go all T-1000 on their asses."

"What about you?"

"Me? I got nothing to lose. Peel back your face, or fry me, do whatever the fuck you want!"

He was shouting by the end. The way she was looking at him, he would only have been mildly surprised if she didn't peel back a false skin to reveal a face as hard and smooth as the heart within.

Iron Hand smiled. "In case you haven't noticed, I  _am_  doing whatever the fuck I want. You have your bosses to thank for that." Her smiled widened when he looked away. "So, you know that now. Won't do you any good, but at least you won't die ignorant."

She turned back to the monitor. Trent took a deep breath.

"What about you? You come to any revelations yet?"

"What revelations?"

He snorted. "Please. You practically live in this little funhouse of yours. You almost never leave it. I asked my friends if any of them have seen you in the conferences, and they haven't. I even heard a rumor that you never attend any meetings with the Fries chink, but you're the one who made it possible for them to make all their Armageddon threats and not look a bunch of stoned hippies. This war we're fighting—that your little Virus Creed is fighting—it's all possible because of you. So why aren't you the face of the revolution? Why weren't you at Fries' side when she made the president her bitch?"

Trent always had a lot of respect for the powers of observation. It wasn't egotistical to say he was an excellent observer himself, especially when he noticed a tenseness in Iron Hand's shoulders that many others would have missed.

"Well?" he pressed when she didn't reply. "You admit it? You know what you really are to them?"

"I have all your files right here," she whispered without turning around. "I could easily duplicate your experience. Maybe even combine them with your friends' ordeals."

Trent snorted again. "You can't scare me with that. Why not just admit it? Dead man, remember?"

"You may be dead, but you're still breathing." Iron turned her head enough for him to catch her severe profile.

"Like you?" Trent countered. "They're going to kill you once they don't need you anymore. You never were one of them."

Iron Hand laughed. "Idiot," she spat. "You're really so stupid that you think this is about  _race?"_

"Maybe not race." He shrugged. "But they don't see you as one of them. You're not some uber-weapon they're hiding so they can make everyone out there piss out of their asses when they unveil you. They've already done that with  _your_  uber-weapons. So, what are you then?"

"I'm nothing," Iron Hand said, her face android-blank. "Nothing at all."

Trent couldn't help it. He gaped.

"And you're okay with that? Christ, I knew you were psycho, but suicidal!?"

A sudden, sharp pain erupted between Trent's shoulder blades. He gasped and arched his back, bones groaning against the restraints.

"You don't know a goddamn thing about me." Trent felt hot breath on his face. When the flashing lights in front of his eyes cleared, he saw that she was looming over him looking nothing short of wrathful. "Or about my purpose here. If that's what you're trying to find out, then I suggest you stop or your already short-ass life is gonna become even shorter very, very fast."

Despite his throbbing back, Trent laughed. And found he couldn't stop laughing.

It took him a moment to realize he was no longer bound to the examination table.

"Get out."

Trent nearly tripped over himself as he obeyed. The door slammed shut behind him. He ducked in an empty hallway, clapping his hand over his mouth in order to stifle his giggles.

She was pathetic.

She was absolutely  _pathetic._

Getting what he wanted was not going to be as hard as he previously believed.

xXx

Aurra Sing was in hell.

She wasn't dead, but she knew she was in hell. With the Devil looming over her.

Religion was something Aurra had always been utterly indifferent to, and or outright contemptuous of. But she would admit to finding some of the stories Harlene told her about her religion Christianity to be interesting. Or more specifically, the stories of the Devil. Once the most beautiful and favored of God's angels, he wasn't satisfied with his status and wanted to be better than God. He waged war, lost, and was stripped of everything. Now he reigned in hell. Harlene claimed that the Islamic and forgotten Christian version of the Devil was more intriguing since he was cast from Heaven for refusing to prostrate himself before humanity, God's favored creation, but admitted that she viewed the Devil more metaphorically than literally.

Aurra begged to differ.

Cloaked in shadows and red light, Captain Orn slowly circled around his helpless prey, who was stripped of weapons and bound to an interrogation table.

"Do you know why you're here, Aurra Sing?"

Aurra's mouth was painfully gagged, but she would have gladly replied had it not been. Captain Orn's smile widened as if he knew exactly what her reply would entail.

"You're here to learn trust. The beings of this galaxy are truly pathetic. You know this, but you don't know why, and in your phenomenally self-absorbed beliefs, you don't realize that you are among the most pathetic." Orn stopped at Aurra's head. He put his hands on either side of her face, his thumbs gently caressing her cheekbones. "We cannot live if we don't trust. Did you know that I didn't take the antidote to the nerve gas we both breathed in? I couldn't. I was utterly helpless. A member of my crew had to administer the antidote for me. Now I am healthy and free. Because I  _trusted."_

Aurra's skin was crawling like an entire army of flesh beetles was under it. She had always been highly resistant to physical torture. Electroshocks, fire knives, beatings, whippings—such methods were useless against her iron will. The one thing that she couldn't bear was being tied up while her bare skin was being touched. Or even worse…

"Now you must learn to trust."

Several crew members entered the room. Aurra nearly blacked out from horror and rage when she saw their eyes trailing down her body.

"Welcome to your first lesson."

xXx

**"All right, we've spent the last half hour screaming ourselves hoarse and cussing up a storm. Is there anyone interested in doing anything….I don't know—productive?"**

**"We can't do anything productive, Roan. Fuck you very much for the reminder."**

**"Noelle, being a bitch doesn't make you clever. Or helpful."**

**"Harlene, right about now, I'd give my right arm to do something helpful. And I swear to God, if you say correcting errors is helpful—"**

**"It is. You really wanna challenge me? Really?"**

**"Girls. Please."**

**"I'll please, I'll correct a million errors, I'll put up with Gryffindor bullshit even though I hate it more than Slytherin bullshit nine times out of ten, I'll do that and more. Just send me out so I can gank a Nazi or fifty!"**

**"We could, you know. And we could do it without fear of imprisonment."**

**"I doubt that. Back-up Error Correctors started their training years—"**

**"—come on, Harlene. You're smarter than that. Training is only two percent of being an Error Corrector. Don't you remember the last test they gave us before we were given a reality?"**

**"Yeah. A full week in _Star Wars_ , and not a single Vallergic Reaction. Unlike  _Harry Potter_  where one foot in the Forbidden Forest and I swear even the tree branches tried to swamp me no matter how strong my cloaking shield was."**

**"Interface manipulation, personality, test scores, power levels—all of that comes down to nothing if the reality wants to spit you right back out."**

**"Baby sis has a point, though. The extra realties may not welcome all the rookies with flowers and chocolates, but enough have."**

**"But they're not _our_  realities. Even the ones that have been claimed by the rookies aren't nearly as developed or powerful as ours."**

**"Roan, I really hope you're not implying that the government thinks we're irreplaceable, 'cause we're not. And these are especially shitty times. Even the president would give us the boot if we caused enough trouble."**

**"That's my point. We may not be irreplaceable, but come on. We'd have to stir up a lot, and I mean a _lot_ of trouble for them to even consider using the rookies."**

**"So the real question is: does ganking a few Nazis without official consent merit us being thrown to the wolves. According to our bosses."**

**"Child-raping Nazis."**

**"Child-raping Nazis, piss-drinking Nazis, who the fuck cares? A Nazi is a Nazi."**

**"Not to our bosses. To them there's a huge difference between a child fucker and a fatass redneck who just hammers "God hates fags and niggers" signs outside his house."**

**"Screw them. Our creed has been half-useless ever since this shitstorm started, and they want us to pretend we're being half-useful. They can suck my Vdick."**

**"Experimenting much, Noelle?"**

**"All of us are going on break soon. If we're really considering this…"**

**"There's a very high possibility these particular Nazis won't last long. People are very, _very_  pissed off at this video. People who aren't as stable as we are. I know that says something, but it's true."**

**"A Nazi is a Nazi. That will never change."**

**"Jacob, you haven't said a word in ten minutes. Peeping with Jiraiya, much?"**

**"No. I've been trying to decide if I hate our government more than the CAA now. Now wait, I hate our government more."**

**"…come again?"**

**"You all are really so stupid you believe they're not sending us on black ops to keep us _safe?_  'Cause we're too  _young?_  The bureaucrats are sick of the lawsuits and bitching so they're keeping us tucked in a corner in the hopes that it'll shut everybody up. If we're let out on the field, and God forbid it's leaked, they'll have hippes and radical fundies trampling their lawns and breaking down their doors. Shit, blow up a few buildings, screw up a few Vsectors, break a few bones, kill a few random people, rape a few random kids. Small price to pay for not having to up your daily dose of Advil. Surprise, boys and girls. This ain't utopia. No matter what anyone says."**

**"And it never will be. So, what should be do?"**

**"You tell me, baby sis."**

**"Why? Why not you?"**

**"Tell me first, and then I'll tell you why."**

**"Whatever. I'm with Noelle. Being half-useful is no better than being half-useless. I say we make preparations for a hunt before we all go on leave. Roan, think you can find these little things?"**

**"I'll give it my best shot."**

**"Good. Because if we kill little things whose blood the people are already screaming for, it increases our chances of not being put on lockdown. Same if a few more little things just happen to come across our path during our search."**

**"Harlene, you're a ruthless, bloodsucking, manipulative, political slime bucket."**

**"Noelle. Of course I am. I would be me if I wasn't. Any other input?"**

**"You've just answered the question you asked me a minute ago so—no."**

**"All right. Let's burn some Na—"**

**"Nnnn!"**

**"Harlene? What's wrong? Harlene? HARLENE!"**

xXx

Cody Harrington saw a movie once that said people should not be afraid of their governments. Governments should be afraid of their people. Okay, history had proven that true since the dawn of man (governments, whatever), but it seemed especially profound now as he sat in a private booth in an underground speakeasy.

"Tell Lizzie that I owe her big."

Cody glanced at the guy working at the Wallpaper plastered on one side of the tiny room. Hatchet he called himself. Cool name. He looked cool, too. Close-cropped hair, black jacket, jeans. The white shirt he wore was so tight Cody could count all the rectangles that made up his rock-hard abdomen. Anyone who looked at him would never suspect he operated in a speakeasy. Exercise games had solved America's obesity problems decades ago. So what if he was a little pale? If someone wanted to find a speakeasy operative, they would be very stupid to start their search with forty-year-old, three-hundred pound grease balls who lived in their mother's basements.

"Don't worry, Lizzie knows," Cody said. He squinted at the Wallpaper. "How long did you say this would last again?"

"Fifteen minutes. Any longer and our bandwidth will burst like a sixteen-year-old's cherry. Damn shame," Hatchet added with a shake of his head, but his eyes were glowing like the setting sun. "It's not scheduled for auto shutdown for an entire hour."

That was disappointing, but expected. According to rumors, speakeasies had managed to get ahold of the Vtech that made up the realities themselves a few years ago and had been experimenting with it ever since. While none of them possessed the resources to expand the technology or keep it operating for longer than a few minutes, even seeing a single strand of reality code was every Vgeek's wet dream come true.

"Can't copy it, huh?" Cody said sympathetically.

"Nah, whoever gave this to you knew what they were doing. No copying, no expanding its lifespan, and only a person with your particular brainwaves will be able to experience it."

"Come on, you don't have to sound so bitter. They took a big risk getting this to me. If it got into the wrong hands, they'd be worse than fired."

Hatchet spared him a glance. "You really think this came from the Error Correctors themselves?"

"No way it could have come from anyone else."

"And they say ass-kissing can't get you to the top." He smirked.

Cody bristled. "Hey, they like me! I'm not ass-kissing—"

"Ah, calm down, just messin' with ya." He smirked again. "Just make sure you keep a gift like this a super-low profile. I have some buddies who would literally kill to get their hands on even a fraction of reality code."

Cody refrained from rolling his eyes. The guy was just trying to be helpful, but he wasn't five for Christ's sake.

"What about you? Why didn't you just grab it and tell me to haul ass under pain of death?"

"Kid, not everyone's an asshole. I know that's real hard to forget that sometimes, but it's true. And—" his smirk became noticeably warmer, "—if anyone deserves to experience what's on this chip, it's you."

Cody averted his eyes and tried very hard not to blush. He must have failed, if Hatchet's chuckle was anything to go by.

"Okay, everything's almost ready." He went up to Cody and made a few adjustments to the nodes attached to his arms, legs and head. "Just don't expect too much."

"What're you gonna do while I'm jacked in?"

"I'll be your hidden guide from the real world. Wouldn't be safe to leave you in there all alone." Cody raised an eyebrow. Hatchet looked indignant. "Hey, if you've got fifteen minutes to taste the best V the world's got to offer, don't see why I can't study what I can. Fifteen minutes is nothing to sneeze at."

"And the altruistic halo gets dumped in trashcan #4." Cody grinned.

"Hey." Hatchet pointed at him, going for seriousness and failing. "I said I wasn't an asshole. Never said I was an angel. Now, are you ready for some V?"

"Let's do it."

Thin visors were lowered over Cody's eyes. He blinked once and…Dear God in  _heaven..._

George Lucas had aspired to be the king of CGI, but both he and James Cameron would be shitting themselves if they could see this right now. This— _this_  was Coruscant. Cody wasn't in the real world anymore. He was standing on the balcony of a skyscraper overlooking  _Coruscant._

"Hey, Cody. Breathtaking, isn't it?"

Cody nearly jumped a foot in the air. Standing beside him was a teenage girl with skin so pale it would make Queen Elizabeth I green with envy. She had been gazing at the crisscrossing air traffic roads, but smiled as he caught his breath. "Sorry if I scared you."

"Are—are you  _really_ —?"

"This is just a recording, but it should be able to communicate with you pretty well. I'm Harlene by the way."

Oh, Christ, Oh, Christ, oh Jesus fucking  _Christ_. "Nice…nice to meet you…" he managed, holding out his hand without thinking. Just when he thought he had only succeeded in mortifying himself further, she took it and shook. "You too. So," she grinned and waved her arm at the wonder before them both, "what do you think?"

"It's…it's—" he shook his head. He was  _not_  going to start crying. "I—"

Another, a dark-skinned boy with close-cropped hair, stepped out from behind Harlene.

"I understand. You should have seen my face when I first jacked in. Roan." He held out his hand. Cody numbly shook it.

"We can't answer all your questions." That came from a tall blonde boy with piercing green eyes. "And from where you are, this'll only last a few minutes at most."

"Life sucks, take what you can get." An Asian girl with an arrogant smirk and an aggressive gaze.

"You're in a bubble that branches from my reality right now," Harlene said. " _Star Wars_. You want a glimpse of any of the others that belong to my friends, just ask them. But make your decision quickly because, like Jacob said, this'll only last a few minutes. We're sorry. For all you've stood up for us, we wish it could last longer—"

"No." Cody could feel wetness travelling down his cheeks, but, really, who gave a shit? "No—it's—it's…fine."

xXx

Hatchet stared at the kid's tears. The spark of pity they caused was brushed away like a bothersome fly. He activated a comm on the Wallpaper.

"I'll tell him to exit through the basement."

"I'll be ready."

xXx

They didn't start tearing at her clothes right away. Orn was more subtle than that. As five crewmembers trailed gentle fingers over every inch of Aurra's body, Orn himself loomed over her head, his facial tentacles gently caressing Aurra's face and neck.

Countless sentients in the same situation would be focusing all their strength into keeping still, into building a mask of cold indifference, not desiring to give their tormentors the satisfaction.

Aurra Sing was no such sentient. Her screams were muffled by the gag, and her thrashes so limited by the bonds they were nothing short of pitiful, but she didn't care. She didn't care about denying them  _satisfaction._  She wanted her freedom, and she wanted their skulls crushed beneath her fingers. Their skulls, their eyes, their lungs, their spines—she would crush them until they didn't exist anymore in this life, or any life for that matter.

One of them, a Weequay, was running his fingertips over her ribs and belly. Light. Ticklish.

Years of violations at the hands of Sennex pirates had honed her mind to sink into a state of primal fury whenever she was strapped or held down and…and  _this_  was done. Tears were useless, pleas even more so. It was her rage that had saved her, rage that prevented her from becoming subservient like they had wanted. It had saved her then, and it would save her now.

_Help me._

No. Rage. No one would help her. No one cared. Love and trust were lies for the naïve. She was not naïve. She knew the truth about the universe. It was why she would always survive.

A rough hand cupped her clothed sex, while a thin blade began to cut down the front of her bodysuit.

_Help me._

Rage. RAGE! No one would ever help her. NO ONE. NO ONE!

The flaps of her bodysuit were spread wide open. Dozens of hands touched the newly exposed flesh, some rough in their haste and greed.

_Help me._

RAGE!

_Help me._

RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGERAGERAGERAGERAGERAGERAGE RAGE!

_Please. Please, help me…_

_Help…_

The screams of Aurra's rage instantly drowned in the screams of the blue, electric arcs ripping through everyone in the room. Everyone—save Aurra Sing.

xXx

Harlene had been morbidly curious about the breaking methods Captain Orn and his crew specialized in. Mina had claimed even the strong-willed Zabrak had been reduced to timid shades and sold on the slave market with minimal fuss. Harlene had wondered and—standing in one of the good captain's torture rooms with him and five crewmembers writhing in twenty million volts of pure energy—she realized she had known since the beginning.

The energy was dispelled and they dropped to the ground, unconscious and unrecognizable. Harlene kicked aside the blackened heap that had once been a Weequay and with a twitch of her mind, Aurra's bonds burst apart. Another twitch and the gag tore off.

"Aurra…Oh, God, Aurra are you—?"

A snarl was her only warning. Harlene grabbed Aurra's arms just as she had been about to lunge at her, hands hooked into claws meant to tear a person's face from their skull.

"Aurra—Aurra stop! It's Harlene! It's Harlene—Aurra, dammit, stop it! Stop it. It's okay. It's…Aurra, it's okay. It's okay. It's okay, you're safe now. They're not gonna touch you again, it's okay. It's okay. It's okay…it's…it's okay."

Harlene didn't even glance at the bodies on the floor as she teleported them to a habitable but barren planet. Not for the first time, she was grateful for the Error Correctors' incapability of taking the life of a virtual being. No matter how injured, none of them would die. At the same time, their bodies' natural healing abilities remained the same. They would be there, in complete agony, until they died of old age.

When they were back on Aurra's ship, she guided Aurra to her room and sat her on the bed. Harlene found herself almost wishing that she would start screaming and thrashing again, for that would indicate some form of awareness. This docile, slack-jawed, vacant-eyed woman was not Aurra Sing. Harlene couldn't hurt those— _things_  anymore, but were  _not_ taking Aurra away from her.

"Aurra?" Harlene bent down a bit, but didn't loom. Tentatively, she laid her hand on Aurra's cheek. "Aurra, can you hear me?"

Aurra shifted, and for the first time Harlene became aware that her bodysuit was gaping open. She stripped off her black cloak and draped it across Aurra's shoulders.

"Aurra. Baby, please look at me. Please."

Nothing. Then—slowly—Aurra looked her right in the eye.

_Thank you, Jesus Christ._

"Aurra, do you know me?"

Dark lips cracked open, then closed. Aurra dropped her gaze, but gave a small nod before Harlene could panic. She clutched the cloak tightly around her and let out a shuddering breath.

"I…I need a shower."

_Oh, thank you, Lord Jesus Christ. Thank you, thank you, thank you._

"All right." Harlene moved her hand to rest on her shoulder. "There are fresh clothes waiting for you in the refresher. Do you want…I'll…I'll have a drink ready for you when you come out."

Pause. Then a small nod. Harlene slammed her mental heel on despair. They  _hadn't_  won.

She waited until Aurra was in the refresher before going to the kitchen. As she was mixing a concoction of blood and various alien alcohols, her comm chimed.

**"You all right?"**  It was Roan.

"Yeah," Harlene said as she stirred the contents in the glass. "I'm fine."

**"Something personal? It's not the reality is it?"**

"No it's…it was Aurra. She ran into some trouble."

**"…Harlene, you didn't—"**

"No, Roan. Trust me, everyone at the academy and then some would know if I screwed with canon. She and I planned this hunt together…It's a long story. I can't talk about it now."

**"Okay, but…nothing. We'll talk about it later. But you should tune into the news soon. CAA's trying to rant and spew its way out of this little mishap."**

"I caught some of that."

**"Yeah, but you haven't heard The Borg speak yet, and you need to."**

"I'll catch it later. I have to go now."

**"Sure."**

Harlene carried the drink to Aurra's

_(their)_

quarters. She nearly dropped the glass when she saw Aurra sitting on the bed dressed in the dark bodysuit Harlene had set up for her. Tiny droplets of water clung to her auburn hair, which indicated she had taken a shower, albeit a super-quick one. She was hunched over, long fingers gripping her knees; but she looked up at Harlene's entrance.

Harlene, well…she wouldn't quite thank God for the way Aurra was looking at her, as if every evil, sadistic thing in the universe had teamed up solely to dangle a fragile, beautiful dream in front of her nose. But at least it wasn't the zombie stare from before. Harlene kept her steps quiet and careful, making sure to give Aurra plenty of personal space when she held out the drink. But Aurra didn't take it. She just stared at Harlene's face. After a few seconds with not a single movement on Aurra's part, Harlene put the drink aside and sat down on the bed.

"I took care of them. They won't hurt you or anyone else ever again."

Aurra blinked. Her gaze flickered to the small space between their shoulders to Harlene's face again.

"Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

"What?"

"Is that why you're not touching me? Do you think I'm going to hurt you?"

Okay, so she shouldn't have expected the conversation to play out the way she thought it would, but still—

"Aurra, I—" She laid a hand on her shoulder before continuing, "—I'm not pushing you away. I just know a lot of people don't like to be touched right after they're molested—"

"You've touched me plenty of times before."

"Yeah, because I was desperate for some sign of life from you. I thought you were in a walking coma or some—"

"Do you think I'd hurt you?"

She was practically hyperventilating. Harlene was far more unnerved by the horror in her eyes.

"Aurra," she said slowly, gently, "I know you would never intentionally hurt me. If this is about…before, I know you weren't really trying to hurt me. I was angry because instead of apologizing, you tried to blame me for something I didn't do."

Which was a blatant half-truth. Harlene was well aware Aurra could and would hurt her intentionally, but the woman looked as if she would shatter into a million pieces if Harlene said the wrong thing.

"Why?"

Harlene blinked. "Why what?"

"You came for me. Why?"

She sounded so confused. Harlene raised her barriers to block the full impact of the emotion, fearing that it would make her sink to the floor and sob her heart out. She didn't block the anger, however.  _That_  she wanted.

"You think—" her voice shook as violently as every muscle in her body, "—that I would just leave you there with those…You honestly think I would leave you there!?"

"What the kark was I supposed to think!?" Aurra shrieked back. "Beings don't just look after or help other beings. Not without something in return! Nothing is for free in this universe! And even when beings are willing to pay…I would have done anything— _anything_  for the Dark Woman to have come for me. I would have become one of those sanctimonious murglaks. I would have followed their kriffing code to the last kriffing letter…what do you  _want_ , Harlene? What could I possibly have to offer to someone as powerful and beautiful as you?"

"For the zillionth time, Aurra: my powers,  _all_  of my powers, were given to me.  _Given to me_. And they can only manifest in this dimension. They aren't natural like yours are. And beauty is strictly based on perception. If you could just allow yourself to understand those two things, it would do wonders for that inferiority complex of yours."

Aurra laughed. "I'm the one with the inferiority complex? God, you're such a joke sometimes, Harlene. I thought you hated self-righteous hypocrisy more than you hated evil."

"I do. And I never denied having an inferiority complex. I do. It's just not as big as yours."

Aurra gaped. "You unbelievably arrogant…who  _gives_  a kark if your powers can't manifest in your own dimension? I'm never gonna go there. No one here can follow you there."

"Malfunctions—"

"Kark malfunctions, kark off switches, kark your kriffin' immortality button! An expert marksman isn't born with his blaster, and he's still an expert marksman even when it locks up or gets taken away. If he gets taken captive, you think his enemies are gonna give him a blaster just because he wasn't born with it? It may not be a natural extension of his body, but once it's in his hands, he's deadlier than anyone who's never picked up a blaster in their life. You want people here to see you as just an ordinary human being, but they never will, Harlene. It's far too late for that. To everyone in this dimension you'll always be an immortal demi-god. Perception, remember? And beauty—have you looked at yourself in the mirror at all? Have you seen what you do to people just by being there alone? You're so kriffing scared of seeming arrogant about yourself that you toss facts right out the airlock without so much as a backward glance!"

Harlene stared at the ground. "'Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.' We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you  _not_  to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone and as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give others permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.'" She turned to Aurra. "Wouldn't all universes be so much better if we realized that about ourselves? About others?"

Even as denial warred on Aurra's face, she said, "If only."

"—we didn't sell each other so fucking short," Harlene finished with a grin.

Aurra glared, then sighed. "It's so hard."

"Doesn't mean we can't do our best. And you were right before. Nothing is free in this universe."

"So, what do you want then?"

Her voice was quiet, almost unemotional.

"I want…what I hope you want," Harlene said at last. "Mutual trust, affection, respect. Love. That's what I want." Aurra just stared. Harlene sighed. "I'm sorry if you're not satisfied, but—"

Two fingers were placed on her lips. "Don't—" A swallow followed by a half-smile half-grimace, "—don't sell me short."

Affection and pride surged through Harlene. She hugged Aurra tightly.

"I'm so glad you're okay. When you were barely responding to me, I thought…"

"If anything's gonna kill me, it's not going to be those karking murglaks." She pulled back, staring into Harlene's eyes with both resignation and desire. "And…if anyone's gonna beat me…it's gonna be you."

Harlene should have been prepared for the kiss, but she only pulled back when Aurra began to deepen it.

"No," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Disappointed but understanding, Aurra began, "You need time—"

"No," Harlene said, more firmly. "We can't. I'm…I'm with someone right now."

Shock. Then rage and jealousy. "Who is it?"

Eyes narrowing, Harlene said, "For the record, Aurra, the list of things you could do to make me leave you forever is incredibly short, but one of them is killing someone I love out of anything but self-defense."

The stubbornness in Aurra's eyes didn't waver. "He wouldn't have to know, Harlene."

"So, I suppose you wouldn't mind if we were still in a relationship, and I slept with whoever else I wanted behind your back?"

Scowling, Aurra looked away, then back at Harlene again.

"You still want me. Don't deny it."

"I'm not. But what I have with him is serious, and I'm not screwing it up. We can still sleep beside one another, but if you kiss me or touch me in a sexually intimate way, I'll leave and I won't come back for a good long while. Understand?"

"Yes," Aurra huffed, then smirked. "I'll play by your rules. But I don't give up, Harlene. Not on anything I want."

"Yep," Harlene said, resigned yet fond. "I know."

xXx

"Well. Someone's happy."

Trent supposed it was a testament to his good mood that not even Samantha's pasty, shit-eating smile was enough to ruin it, nor the fact that she had followed him to the downtown bar. Didn't mean he would play nice, though.

"Fuck off." The words were muffled around the rim of the beer bottle he was drinking.

She took the stool beside him, still smiling. "So, what are we celebrating?"

_"We_  aren't celebrating shit. Now get out of my sight before I break your bony ass."

"You know, you're right. We aren't celebrating shit, 'cause there's nothing to celebrate. Whatever you were so fucking smug about before, whatever plans that seem to be working right now—it ain't gonna matter. Unless you listen to me, you're gonna die."

He opened his mouth to snarl yet more threats and obscenities, but paused. Sam—despite her many conquests—was far from the best con artist in the world. She was way too full of herself to even think of trying to improve her acting skills. No way could she fake urgency this well.

Fuck.

"Ten seconds."

"I only need five. They're taking the emotional transfer experiments to a fatal level, and you're on the list."

Suddenly, he couldn't feel the ice cold bottle in his hand.

"You're lying. If you've heard then Jordan and Terry have heard, too. They would have warned me—"

"Shithead!" Samantha hissed. "Have any of them said ten words to you since your last mission? You—everyone on your team—you're all fair game. You're  _alone_ , Trent. You can't deny it. Or have any one of your friends asked you about what Kemp did to you? Have any of them asked you if you're  _all right?"_

They hadn't. No one had shunned him or seemed skittish around him, but…

"It's fine, Trent. They're pussies. You don't need them."

"If I don't need them, I sure as shit don't need you."

"I may not be a soldier but I hear things, Trent. Things your former friends would never share with you."

"Then what are you waiting for? A suspense soundtrack?"

"I'm waiting for you to let me in on your plan," she whispered. "You're trying to get the Daemon Virus, Trent. From Iron Hand herself."

"Even if that's what I was doing," he grated out. "I would be more retarded than a Down baby to team up with you to steal the Virus Creed's uber-weapon from under that shitblood-loving dyke's nose. You couldn't keep your mouth shut when you already knew the Virus Creed wouldn't train us to use Vsuperpowers. You'd get us killed in seconds."

A black scowl contorted her features. "I may not be a soldier, but you do need me. Can you tell me how many Aryans know that we need— _need_ the Daemon Virus if we're gonna win this war? Apart from the two of us?" She smiled when he didn't answer. "I'm not a soldier, but I'm not useless. I hear things."

"Tell me what you've heard— _all of it_ —and we'll go from there."

"Fine. As a gesture of good faith."

She started talking. Every sentence contained its own bombshell that left Trent speechless. But it wasn't until she got to the end did he realize that the beer bottle had cracked in his grip.

"Ingenious, isn't it?" she said, clearly enjoying his horror. "We'll be rid of a traitor, and we'll redeem ourselves in the eyes of the people by publicly executing those heinous child rapists—and murderers. That recording was a real thorn in our asses, but in a few days' time we'll be back to being the shining beacon of holiness that is God's chosen people."

"And I'll be dead!" he hissed. His heart was pounding so hard he almost couldn't hear his own voice. "You've just told me I'm gonna die screaming within days."

"You won't." Samantha leaned forward. "You're gonna survive it."

"No." He threw some creds on the counter and sped for the exit.

God, he had been so fucking stupid. He knew he couldn't risk involving anyone in his plan to get the Daemon Virus. He knew he would be sold out if things got too rough, but he never expected to be written off like that. No one even had the decency to warn him…

Fury lent wings to his heels as he ran to his car, but that was all it was good for. Even if he had received an earlier warning it would have ended the same way. There was no choice now. He had to take his mother and run.

He yanked open the car door. As he started the ignition, he barely had to time to curse himself for failing to lock everything up. In a blink the passenger door was open, and then closed.

"You can't run, Trent."

Trent grabbed a pistol out of the glove compartment and pointed it at Samantha's forehead.

"Get out!"

Fear watered in her eyes, but the stubborn line of her jaw didn't waver.

"You gonna be a pussy, Trent? Huh?"

_Cock._  "Get. Out."

"They'll find you. And it's gonna be a billion times worse when they do. For you and for your Mom. Oh, come on, Trent. Everyone knows about her. Moreover, everyone knows  _she's_  fair game to the generals. You want Kemp to get his hands on her?" Samantha raised her hands. "Trent, I'm begging you. Put the gun down and listen to me. It's fine if you hate me, or you don't trust me, but…just hear me out, okay."

Maybe she would be a skilled con woman someday. After several tense moments, Trent lowered the pistol, but kept it ready.

"Trent, you have to let them. It's your only shot. I told you so you could brace yourself, so you could have a better chance. They're not planning on killing you (not right now), they just wanna make a show of punishing that snotty little traitor's murderers. If— _when_  you survive—they'll let you go. You'll be able to get back to the plan."

"What's in this for you?" Trent said sharply. "Why're you so hell bent on teaming up with me? Why not just whore yourself out to one of the generals? Lord Grand Dragon would love for you to be his own personal cocksucker."

She went so pale Trent half-expected her to faint.

"You listen good, Carlyle. I will always suck cock if I have to, but I am  _not_  gonna suck cock forever, especially cock that's as dry and cracked as a piece of shit baking under the Sahara sun."

Trent whistled. "I'll give you half a grand if you say that to his face."

"Save your creds. I  _am_  gonna say it to his face. I'll say it to  _all_  their faces."

"Careful, Sammy. All traitors must die."

"All traitors to the white race. No: the  _future_ of the white race. Trent, the grand dragons and the so-called generals…what do they do? Sit on their ancient asses while we go out and risk our lives. They may have started the movement, but they stopped being the movement long ago.  _We_  are the Congress of Aryan Alliances, Trent. Not them."

"So what? You and me are gonna commit a coup de grace?"

"Trent, if we have the Daemon Virus there's nothing we wouldn't be able to do. The world would be ruled by the white race as it should be."

"You still haven't answered my question: why me?"

Sam bit her lip looking very grim. "From what I've heard, a few people are more than a little pissed off. Rumors of a spy amongst the Virus Creed are growing, but the Fries chink isn't taking them seriously. The same people know the Virus Creed will have us under their shitblood thumbs forever unless we get our hands on the Daemon Virus. They know, but they're too chickenshit to say anything much less do anything. Everyone else thinks that once we take over the country, we'll be able to kill the Virus Creed and take the Daemon Virus for ourselves."

"That'll never happen. We kill the Virus Creed, everything Iron Hand's ever created will self-destruct before we can even touch it."

"Yeah, shitbloods can be smart even if they'll always be shitbloods. But you know I'm right, Trent. And if you want another reason for me coming to you then try self-preservation. I may not be a soldier, but I underwent training for a little while. Training under  _shitbloods._  I'm tainted like you. And you know how the council feels about tainted Aryans. They're gonna kill us all, even if we delivered Daemon right in their wrinkled laps."

Cold nausea wrapped itself around Trent's gut. Samantha's face morphed into a horror mask.

"You were gonna  _give it to them?!"_

"Fuck you," Trent muttered.

"You retarded, shit for brains, son of a motherfucking—!"

Trent smashed the gun across her face. Breathing hard, she clutched her cheek, blood seeping through her fingers undoubtedly from a split lip.

"Next time it's your skull," he said in a low snarl. "And you're fucking hideous when you're angry."

An admittedly impressive growl rumbled in her throat. Teeth bared, she sat back up, hooking her hands into claws.

"I wouldn't," Trent said raising the gun.

"I'm gonna be laughing my ass off when they put you in the probes again," she croaked, eyes shining with a terrible loathing. "But don't you dare die. And don't you dare give those wrinkly motherfuckers the Daemon Virus once you get it."

"I do whatever the fuck I want," he spat. "Now get out."

Unfortunately, the feeling of vindication didn't sit well with the nausea that had settled in his stomach over the course of the conversation. He didn't trust her as far as he could kick her pasty ass across a football field—but he had nearly run at her word. Hers and no one else's. Because everything she had said made perfect sense. Everything she had said…he should have known.

As he pulled out, he pushed her out of his mind. She was a problem (or non-problem) that he could deal with later. Right now, he still faced two choices: run or get tossed in a hell worse than before.

And he needed to decide now.

xXx

Any other time, Cody would have killed himself out of mortification for crying in front of someone who wasn't his parents, his sister, or anyone under the age of three. He may have been only twelve, but he knew that anyone who didn't cry after experiencing what he just experienced had no soul.

"Any chance you could describe it?" Hatchet asked kindly. "For us mere mortals?"

_I'm still a mere mortal,_  Cody wanted to say, but his throat was too locked up. God, he had been there, to all of them. Konoha, The Black Pearl, fucking Coruscant, motherfucking  _Hogwarts_. He had touched, smelled, felt… _God._

Hatchet assisted him in removing the sensors. He also had to assist him in finding his feet.

"Hey, you okay? Not Vdrunk, are you?"

"Nah, I'm…" He swallowed. "I'm good." He clasped Hatchet's arm. "Thanks so much."

"My pleasure. Though I got no small end of the deal."

There was something off about Hatchet's smile. Almost as if he would rather be scowling than smiling. But Cody was too Vhopped to care.

"I can get home," he said, moving away from Hatchet's support when he found out his legs would support him. "And I think I'm gonna spend the entire weekend staring at the ceiling above my bed."

"Your fans are gonna be disappointed."

"Ah, they can wait a little longer for another video. They're tough. And so am I." He laughed and turned away quick enough that he didn't see Hatchet's face lose all of its previous warmth.

"It'd be best to exit through the basement. Sixth door on the right, down the stairs."

"Thanks."

When he was outside, he sent a text to his sister.

**Coming home now. Got something 2 tell u.**

"Hey, honey, you need a ride?"

Cody stopped. The question had come from a middle-aged woman parked on the curb.

"Oh. No, thanks," he said politely. "I always take the bus. But thanks anyway."

"I'm afraid I can't take no for an answer." Her grandmotherly smile didn't waver. "You see, if you love niggers so much it's only fair that you be picked up like one." She pointed a gun at him. "Get in."

Oh, shit, oh, shit. He looked around. There were people barely thirty feet away.

"Scream and my friend parked outside your home puts a bullet through your pretty sister's window. Or however many it takes."

Cody glanced around, praying for someone to round the curb.

Grandma-Nazi cocked the gun. "Five seconds or she's dead."

Bile rising in his throat, Cody obeyed. As the car started, he realized that he had considered adding  **luv u**  to the text he had just sent Kayla, but thought it too mushy.

"Love you, sis," he mouthed, as tears blurred the world around him.


End file.
